Royal Trouble - (Thranduil x reader)
by PixieNic21
Summary: You are kept as a guest in the elven halls, unsure why, you become involved with King Thranduil himself only to discover a dark secret. Romance, adventure and smut occur.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 **

"If I was fortunate enough to have such a beautiful creature in my company, I would not think it wise to stray so far into danger" purred the Elven King, his eyes burning into you, taking in your soaking silk dress that was now see-through from your fall into the river.

You silently curse your blushing cheeks. He glances back to your oldest and closest friend Tarron, scowling at him intensely – it almost seemed as though he didn't appreciate the way he'd formed a barrier between himself and you. After being captured not 3 days ago for being dared to enter the elven halls in disguise, to your surprise, instead of being locked away in the dungeons, both of you were made guests. However, your best friend was set against it being weird, he said the only reason that the both of you were allowed to stay here was because the King 'fancied' you; for the latter statement Tarron received a blow to the balls, you disliked the attention and being an awkward soul at the best of times, any hypothetical male advances really made you feel uncomfortable. But here and now you are faced with a real problem, this was the second time King Thranduil had come to your aid - in all fairness, the first time involved you losing your clothes (and your dignity) after taking a bath made by his servants, only for the King to offer you a choice of the finest dresses made by the royal dressmaker. Yet Tarron argued that you were in no real danger, unless of course you fell over onto a sharp object, but you begged to differ. Complete nudity in a stranger's home wasn't something you felt ok with. In fact, you hated it. You thanked God it was Elora, your attributed maid, and not the King himself who found you nude. Ah, the shame.

And now, realising the King's guards had surrounded you and Tarron, all eyes boring into your…well, what should have been a beautiful, floor length dress, decorated with silver crystals and white lace, was now a ripped, battered, brown piece of ragged cloth - you wanted to curl up and die. Shortly after Tarron had suggested taking a walk outside the King's halls, you had both found yourselves in the middle of an orc pack. The King had initially informed you that no-one was allowed to leave the halls when you were first brought to him, you had frequently heard of stories about dark things that lurked in the Forest of Mirkwood and truthfully, if it wasn't for Tarron practically dragging you out, none of this would have happened. The shade created by the trees that hung over the edge of the riverbank framed where you stand, opposite the King's wrath. It makes you shiver. You loathe the cold, and now, you loathe Tarron.

Having just slaughtered the pack of orcs who drove you into the river, Thranduil's sword is dripping with blood as he effortlessly slides it back into the scabbard next to his left hip. Neither you nor Tarron make a sound. Whispers of the King's temper had made their way round the chambers and you knew that the servants seldom dared look the King in the eye for fear of being scolded, even if he had let you both stay in his halls, you had barely seen him, or his temper. Being cautious not to enrage him, you avoid eye contact and shuffle behind Tarron, suddenly thankful for his height. You aren't small, but being the only human present, it made you feel vulnerable. The village you grew up in was far from these lands and years ago your family had found Tarron abandoned in the corn fields your father worked in. Your mother couldn't handle looking after another child, instead, her sister took him in and raised Tarron as her own son. As an elf growing up in a village full of men, it was difficult for him to make friends, but somehow, you had always been drawn to him. He isn't overly tall, but tall enough. His nose is thin yet defined, as are his cheeks, and clothed in a grey tunic paired with muddy brown trousers, he looks pretty rough. His hair is light brown, speckled with dirt that appeared to look like highlights, and his round hazel eyes are small, but big enough to convey what they wanted, and right now, they are doubled in size. Placing your right hand on the small of Tarron's back for support, you feel him shake, never had you known him to be scared. His adventurous ways always had you in trouble, but this is different. This is royal trouble, and you don't like it one bit.

"Did I not tell you to stay inside the halls?"

No-one answers.

"Did I not stress how important it was that no-one leaves without my consent?"

You shiver for a second time, involuntarily and catch his eye from behind Tarron's shoulder.

"Am I to take it, that no-one here can speak?"

Suddenly, you feel your hand on Tarron's back rise as he attempts to talk. His lungs fill with air and his mouth widens, but he hasn't the courage to reply. Instead, the King lunges forward, taking both of you off-guard and stops centimetres away from Tarron's face. You lower your head, trying as best you can to be invisible, but he pushes Tarron to the side with one arm and grabs your wrist with the other.

"A King requires an answer" he whispers into your ear with a smirk.

His breath is ice on your neck and the air is so thick with tension you feel faint, but the freezing droplets of water on your skin keep you from keeling over. His unfaltering eye contact is killing you.

"I…yes, my King"

You finally answer him, after a painstakingly long wait. Out the corner of your eye you can see Tarron, his eyes glued to the floor as the King draws back his hand from your wrist and takes a further look at you, eyes roaming over your drenched attire.

"Well, it appears you _can_ speak… perhaps you will be able to explain yourself better in front of my court, as to why you found it necessary to disobey my commands?" he growls.

You throw a look to Tarron to see if he is going to dissuade the King, but it's a loss. You begin to wonder why he's so angry. Dripping wet, you stand there helpless, exhausted and humiliated.

"Please, my K..King..I..we are truly sorry…" you reply, spluttering your words out before another shiver sets in.

His gaze never leaves you as he flicks his wrist, signalling for two guards to wrap you in a deep red blanket, you sigh at the instant warmth it creates and glance over to Tarron, who is holding a blanket similar to yours. As they begin to march you and both back to the Woodland King's halls, you look over your shoulder to see the King watching you as you go. He is standing there, arms folded as his lips curl into a sinister smile, his long silver hair whipping around in the wind. His intimidating glare makes you turn back.

You feel a wave of anxiety wash over you and the realisation that you might be stuck here for quite some time…and not as a guest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

"My Lady, the news is everywhere!"

Elora informs you as soon as you enter your chambers, your back facing her, you cringe at the use of 'my lady', the King insisted upon all your servants using it, but now it only serves to remind you of what you no longer are, in his opinion anyway. You pause, wondering why you actually care what he thinks. It makes you feel angry, yet upset at the thought that he might not let you stay here for disobeying him and quite frankly, you have no idea why. Bustling about your room, Elora continues to clean as you stand still as a slapped fish.

"They say there were a pack of orcs near the Forest again, orcs! I tell you if..."

She speaks rather commonly for an elf, you think, as her voice fades away whilst you lean against the door for support, fatigued by the effort it took to climb out of the river, you push lightly on one of the doors to see if it opens, but it doesn't – you begin to wonder whether you're a prisoner after all. You had been escorted by the guards right up to your chamber doors to ensure you wouldn't attempt anymore 'escapes', as if you had the energy to.

As you turn to face Elora, she jumps back in surprise at the state of you,

"Oh! My Lady, what-why are you…oh-and your hair!"

You drop your eyes to the floor and notice a drop of scarlet by your bare feet. Looking around for cuts, you see a long silver mirror to your right and stumble towards it, what stares back at you looks pretty damn terrible.

"Oh GOD!"

You groan, palming your hands in your face. Why did Tarron have to be such so pushy, it was completely his idea to go wandering off, but the longer you think about it, the angrier you become. Small cuts and bruises are scattered across your arms as you painfully peel back the layer of white fabric that clings to your tender skin. Collapsing into a scruffy heap on your plush bed, you let out a defeated moan.

"It's ok my lady, we can sort you out, a nice new dress'll fix-"

But the adventures of the day had left you so tiresome you'd fallen asleep as soon as your head hit the bed. Pulling the rich purple covers over you, Elora began tucking you in, only to be interrupted by a loud knock at the door. Scuttling over to open them, she found herself in front of the King's messenger, Elbereth. His face was similar to most elves, thin, but not unpleasant, framed by long golden strands of straight hair, but in his voice there was harshness. Despite his youthful appearance, he seemed all but endearing.

"The King demands her presence"

Gesturing over to the bed where you slept, he formed a most displeased face,

"…she is to be dressed appropriately and should be presented to him within the next hour."

And with that he strolled off down the hall, a smug look plastered across his face. Feeling panicked, Elora quickly begins attempts to wake you up,

"My lady! You simply _must_ wake up!"

In response, you roll over and sigh, pulling the covers further over yourself to create a cocoon. Minutes later, she somehow finally manages to pull you out of bed in spite of her short stature and haul you over to the huge bathroom that joins your chambers.

"Wow, so big-" you stifle a yawn, "why do I need to take a bath, please Elora…sleep, I need slee-"

As she pulls you down into the steaming hot water of the gigantic Jacuzzi-like bathtub you feel a sense of relief. You let your head rest against the back of the tub as your cuts as bruises soak and you hum pleasantly. As Elora begins washing your hair, your thoughts turn to Tarron, and you wonder what he's doing now; was he escorted back to his chambers too?

But your thoughts were again interrupted by Elora's soft voice,

"Now my Lady, the King has asked to see you so it's very import-"

"What the- are you serious? Why?"

"My Lady, please! Calm down. I'm sure he just wants to see that you're alright, you did look a mess when you came back."

Yes, that's it. Of course, he wants to ensure your safety after he scolded you in front of his men and caused enough embarrassment to last you a life time. Typical. It's not that he wants to throw you into his dungeons and lock you away forever… you still aren't quite sure what had made the King so angry, even if you had been killed, what were you to him? A guest? Or held captive? Fuck that. You could leave at any time, right? It's probably because you had caused a patrol to be sent out…

Tarron was still at the forefront of your mind. With your thoughts whirling round your head, you almost fall over as Elora helps you step out of the bath and wraps you in warm towel. Disappearing into the other room, you hear her fumbling around as you continue to talk,

"Will it just be the King and I?"

"I don't know my Lady, Elbereth didn't say that much."

You were about to ask just who Elbereth is, when she re-appears with the most elegant ruby red dress you have ever seen. With your mouth agape, there in no way you can imagine wearing that in front of King Thranduil. The sweetheart neckline looks very low, and the mid-length sleeves are sure to show off your newly acquired scratches.

"I can't wear _that_!" you shout in protest,

"Oh but my Lady you must!" Elora wails, "It's the King's orders."

"But why must he have me wear such…such a revealing dress!" you pout,

"It's only because you aren't used to these things my Lady, in time you'll grow accustomed to it, do not worry."

"Well maybe I won- wait, what do you mean 'in time'?"

There was silence.

"I'm not staying here forever, you know? I can leave whenever I please."

You try to sound as though you believe yourself, but the longer Elora remains silent, the more you grow anxious.

"Um, of course, my Lady. Now let's fix your hair and make you look presentable."

As she gently pushes you in the direction of the dressing table at the foot of your bed, you sense that something isn't quite right. But perhaps now isn't the right moment to question her. You don't wish to be late and angering the King for a second time is most definitely not what you have in mind.

"Go on, my Lady!" Elora whispers, shoving you into the entrance of the throne room. It is truly beautiful and as you stare at the wonderful carvings, you realise it's more like an open platform. There are few walls in the elven halls and you had longed to take a walk around them ever since you had entered here, but it probably wasn't allowed.

Feeling exposed by the open-ness, you stumble round the corner, still feeling off balance from this morning you make a b-line to the middle of the room. As you are walking, you hear women giggling and clapping, looking up, you see him.

Surrounded by elf maids, his legs are casually draped over an arm of the throne. You watch with intent, as one of the maids goes to pluck a violet grape from the bunch that lies on the small table by his side; it is spread with the most exotic of fruits. She places it inside Thranduil's mouth, but as she tears her fingers away, he pulls them back sucking the juices off them, his tongue lapping up all that's left. His actions cause her to elicit a small moan, making the others jealous as they all clamour to feed him the next item of fruit.

Realising you have come to a halt, you shuffle to the centre, and, feeling confident, you clear your throat. It must be the dress. It fits you perfectly, as if he knew your measurements. The ripples of the fabric skim your hips but hug your waist, emphasising your curves. Your hair was curled into soft waves and Elora had insisted that it should be left down; apparently the King likes it so. Not that you cared what he thought, but it was best to please him after the incident. The blood red colour of your dress set off your now apparent flushed cheeks and until now, you hadn't noticed that the King's cloak was of the same shade.

Still refusing to acknowledge your presence, Thranduil utters something in elvish to the maids and they disperse. Refusing to even look at you, he begins to help himself to more fruit. You know he is keeping you in suspense, you've learned that this is something he enjoys. The bastard. Summoning you after the day you have had and he can't even meet your eye line?! Well, two can play at that game.

After standing there for what seemed like an age, you turn swiftly with all the intention of leaving, until you hear his smooth voice, practically dripping with arrogance,

"Leaving so soon?"

As you spin around to face him, you try to come up with some clever remark, but you aren't known for your fast replies. You find it hard to string a sentence together at the best of times, this is just pushing it. Thankfully, you don't have to. The King rises as that familiar smile is etched across his porcelain face.

"I'm sure you are wondering why I have summoned you here?"

Still not giving in to look at you, he regally strolls down from the steps leading up to his throne. You pluck up the courage to give him an answer, avoiding your last mistake,

"Yes. My King" you speak softly.

He is now inches away from you and with his next sentence, he finally looks at you,

"Tomorrow nigh- my, my…that dress looks wonderful on you."

His eyes once again roam across your body as you try to read his expression. You feel uncomfortable, and he uses this to his advantage. He has you right where he wants you. There's no denying his devilishly handsome looks as you imitate his actions, your eyes wandering over his lean body, dressed in silver, he looks close to perfection.

"My maids ought to be jealous of such beauty, they tell me humans are incapable of bearing such good looks…but you, my darling, appear to be an exception."

Your face is enflamed, your eyes downcast. Never have you ever received such a compliment. Maybe he's just trying to charm you into getting what he wants. Noticing your awkward manner, he lets out a dark chuckle before continuing,

"But as I was saying, tomorrow night, there is to be a Ball. Elves from realms outside of this one will be present. Afterwards we are to discuss future plans concerning the dark forces that lurk beneath the shadows of Mirkwood and beyond,"

With your full attention on him, the King takes a step closer to you, and reaches out for your hand. Recalling the last time he took hold of your wrist, you flinch and your breath audibly hitches. Looking into his eyes, you have never seen any so vivid, so full of colour. Registering your apprehension, he appears to look almost hurt, and feeling somehow guilty, you offer out your hand to him. As he takes it, you feel a sudden surge of safety and reassurance, which is rather strange, as you have never really felt like this around any other man – especially one who you have known for barely four days!

"..My Lady, I apologise for my temper, I did not mean to scare you earlier this morning. The reason I asked you here was to invite you to attend the Ball…with myself."

You almost can't believe it. A human being asked to attend an elven Ball, and with the King!? It does cross your mind that perhaps this is a scheme of some sort, but if you declined his offer you wouldn't get to see the great halls in all their majesty.

"B..but I'm-"

"Human. Yes? My Lady, if you do not wish to join me then you simply have to s-"

"No, no! I'm….just surprised."

"So you'll come? Very well, it is settled."

The corners of his mouth rise as he paces back towards the throne, mounting the stairs, he looks back at you,

"I look forward to it."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

You wake up the next morning to find Elora perched by your side waiting to hear all the details about what the King had said to you. You had been so tired from the day's events, that you had gone straight to bed without speaking to her.

"So?" she looked bright-eyed and you could tell she was excited.

"My Lady? What did he want?!"

"I- uh thought you said he wanted to check if I was ok?"

"Well that's what I assumed…"

Stretching your legs, you pull the covers up around you, making you feel secure. It suddenly hits you that tonight you will be attending the Ball.

"Err, well…anyway, he kind of asked me to go to the Ball with him. Tonight."

You rub your eyes, not quite believing the words that just came out of your mouth.

"Are you serio- oh! This is unheard of, my Lady! You'll certainly cause a stir with the King on your arm!"

"Yeah…haha.."

You giggle nervously and contemplate whether you made the right choice. There are so many questions you have. Who will be there? Why out of all the beautiful elf maidens you have seen in the halls, would he choose you?! And what about-

"Tarron!"

"What on ear-"

You spring out of bed, knocking Elora to the floor, you dash over to the open wardrobe near the bathroom. Bursting full of extravagant dresses, you pick out the least elaborate one. It's pale blue with long sleeves; the stitching is plain, and, to your delight, it is _far_ less revealing than the dress you wore last night. Fumbling with the lacing at the back, you groan,

"I can't believe I forgot about him!"

"My Lady…"

Clambering back up, Elora shuffles over to you and begins to lace up your dress.

"..who you talking about?"

"Tarron! I haven't seen him since yesterday morning! I don't even know where he is or if he's even here! I bet the King threw him out, you should have seen the way he looked at him, it was as if he was the enemy!"

"He'll be fine, my Lady. The King wouldn't-"

As soon as she finishes the lacing, you rush over to the doors and fling them open in spite of their weight. You're worried. Back in your village, you and Tarron were hardly apart. You had grown up together and everyone knew that you were inseparable. Your friendship was strong and being away from him just for a day felt odd.

Running down the long corridor that opens out from your chambers, you had forgotten to put the cream slip-on shoes that Elora had placed by your bedside. Unfortunately, this only comes to your attention once you feel a dull throbbing pain spreading across your left foot. Cringing in pain, you bend down to gently rub it,

"Oh! Excuse me, many apologies my Lady, I- aren't you the human girl?"

"Ah, yes…I was just, erm.."

You muddle your words, trying to think up an excuse for bursting out from your chambers.

"Allow me to introduce myself: I am Prince Legolas, son of King Thranduil."

Not realising the King had a son, you look at him in shock. Bowing low, he takes your hand and places on it a chaste kiss. You immediately see the similarities between him and his father. His long blond hair, shorter than the King's, but exact in colour, he resembles a younger (and in your opinion, less attractive) version of Thranduil.

He rises to his full height, with an all too familiar smirk forming across his lips. He's certainly inherited his father's arrogance. Surprised he hasn't asked you what you're doing, you try to stutter out your name,

"I…I'm…"

"I know who you are. My Lady, the whole of this Kingdom knows who you are."

Blushing, you avoid his eye contact, afraid that his father has told him of the incident by the river.

"Oh, erm…"

"And where is a young lady such as yourself wandering off to at this early hour?"

He folds his slender arms, and looks down at you, one eyebrow raised in expectation.

"I'm trying to find- uh, my friend. Tarron."

"Ah yes, the strange elf. Well it appears you are in luck, my Lady. I am looking for the Captain of the guards. She is rumoured to have taken an interest in your…_friend_…"

He wrinkles his nose as if he's disgusted by the Captain's apparent interest in Tarron. Although you've never seen her, you feel pretty confident that her affections would not be returned. Even if she is a radiant beauty, you doubt that Tarron would have the courage to talk to her. You and Tarron shared many things in common, but out of all of them, you were both burdened with an overwhelming sense of awkwardness when it came to relationships.

As the Prince stands opposite you, you wonder whether he is keeping the distance because you're a human – but then again, it's not as if you're a dwarf… As if he knows what you are thinking, he puts your doubts to rest as he offers out his arm to you,

"Follow me, I'm sure we shall find them."

Nervously, you take his arm as the both of you walk off down the remainder of the corridor. The silence is uncomfortable and it reminds you of your meeting with the King, but as you take the next turn left, he tries to make conversation,

"So, how do you like it here? It must be very different to where you come from…"

The tone in his voice has changed, it appears far lighter, as if he is trying to appeal to you and before you can answer, he continues,

"..you don't have to fear us, you know? My father does not dislike humans as he does dwarves. Those foul creatures, dirty, smelly, thieving-"

He composes himself.

"I can assure you that whilst you remain within these halls, no harm will come to you. Just don't disobey my father again and you'll be fine."

He winks.

You roll your eyes, realising you were right. Of course, _everyone_ must know about what happened. Shrugging off the embarrassment, the both of you come to a standstill outside two lavish wooden doors, not dissimilar from yours. The Prince releases your hold and knocks firmly, his face resuming its serious demeanour. You take small steps forward, hearing voices from inside the chamber, you recognise Tarron's instantly.

It begins to creek open, as an elvish face pokes out from behind it.

"Legolas! Er, I mean, my Prince."

She quickly corrects herself upon noticing your presence as he shoots her a fierce look.

"Tauriel. The King wishes to speak with you."

"Yes, my Prince. Of course."

As she opens the door wider, you see a flushed Tarron standing behind her. Maybe you were wrong? From what you could see, she was beautiful, with long vibrant hair and high cheekbones, the usual elven traits – but she stood out somewhat. Could it be that he actually likes her?

Suddenly, the atmosphere becomes tense as Tauriel steps forward to move past Legolas, but he catches her arm and leans in close,

"I would think it ill for a Captain to be spending her time conversing with guests instead of patrolling our borders, do you not agree?"

Pulling her arm from his grasp, she replies sternly,

"Perhaps, my Prince, but then isn't that what you're doing?"

Looking over to you, she smiles sweetly. As she leaves, her auburn hair swishing at her back, you form the opinion that the two have some sort of history. The air was thick with unresolved tension, and whether or not it was sexual was to be discovered later on.

You look back to Tarron, then over to Legolas, who clears his throat,

"I am sorry about her. Tauriel can be rather difficult at times. Anyway, I must be heading back, I shall leave you to it…but I'll be sure to see you tonight, my Lady, at the Ball?"

"Yes, my Prince."

"Good, farewell then, my Lady."

Unsure of how to act, you curtsey as he leaves. The reminder of the Ball makes you sweat and you had forgotten about it until now, glancing over to Tarron he had already wandered back into his chamber.

"Um, hello? Am I invisible?"

You wave at him, but he turns so his back is facing you.

"Why did you have to do that?" he barks,

"Do _what_?"

You get the feeling that you won't like where this is going. He spins round angrily,

"You made her leave! We were getting along fine. I was actually having a conversation with a real, live woman, and you messed it up!"

Fists balled at his sides, you have never seen him like this. His face grows redder as he starts walking towards you, gesticulating with his hands, he tries to make his point.

"Did you know that after you were escorted back to your chambers, it was _me_ who got the blame? It was _me_ who had to take the blame for you!"

Feeling bad, you avert your gaze. But, it was his fault! Wasn't it? He was the one who dragged you out and he was the one who told you to jump in the river. You feel the need to defend yourself, raising your voice, you lift your head up to shout at him.

"Ok, first of all, it wasn't me who told her to leave. Secondly, I was worried about you! I haven't seen you since yesterday!"

You try to reason with him, but it seems to make things worse.

"Well I'm fine! And so are you by the looks of things. Flirting with Princes, I warned you about them! The only reason we are here is beca-"

"Because the King 'fancies' me and we are in some crazy plot that he has to keep us here forever? You're pathetic, do you even know what you are saying? And _I_ wasn't the one chatting up an elf in my chambers!"

"I-Just go."

"What?"

"Leave."

"Fine, I will!"

You slam the doors behind you, frustrated at Tarron's dumb-assery, you exhale loudly. As you harrumph back down the corridor, you feel your cheeks growing damp and realise small tears are falling…you thought Tarron would be the last person you would fall out with.


	4. Chapter 4

**Ch****apter 4**

You spend the rest of the day curled up in the corner of your chambers attempting to read a book in elvish. You knew a little from the tales your father had told you, but being in an angry state, you give up. Having barely said a word to Elora all day, she is wary to avoid you and goes off to complete other chores elsewhere. Upon her return, you realise it must be getting late, and that means it's almost time for the Ball.

After a lengthy amount of time being groomed, you were ready.

"My Lady…"

Elora takes a step back, admiring her work.

"…you look truly beautiful."

"Thank you Elora, and…I'm sorry for ignoring you for most of the day, I just.."

"It's ok, there's really no need to explain m'lady." she says grinning.

Dressed in a silver gown to match King Thranduil's attire, you stared at your reflection not quite believing you look so…classy. As you smooth out your dress, you try to forget about Tarron, hoping that he doesn't show up at the Ball.

Your make-up is minimal, but your eyes stand out and this time, your hair is up in a high bun with a few messy curls hanging down; Elora thought it might be nice to have your hair up, making it contrast to all the other elven women who would most likely have their hair down – desperate to please Thranduil. You feel like a real princess, giggling at the cliché, you smile. All you needed now was the King.

You wait patiently as Elora nervously fetches you a small glass of water from the bathroom. As she passes it to you, it begins to shake, her hands are trembling as she slides it into your palm.

"Elora, what's wrong?"

Avoiding your eye, she fidgets uncomfortably.

"Nothing, my Lady. I'm fine. I just tend to get a bit nervous when these fancy occasions happen."

You go to offer her reassurance, not entirely sure why it's her that needs it, when you hear the door. This is it. Feeling slightly overwhelmed, you hold on to the bookcase by your bed as Elora rushes to get the door.

"My Lady…"

It's Elbereth. Both disappointed and relieved, you sigh.

"..his royal highness, King Thranduil, has informed me to tell you that he will join you once you are present at the Ball. He apologises for the delay and sends you this.."

Uncurling his hand, he holds out a golden leaf-shaped box.

"Oh! My Lady!" squeals Elora.

As he places it into the middle of your hand, your heart beats fast. Your eyes widen. Opening it carefully, you see an emerald pendant on a silver chain, it is the mirror image of Thranduil's brooch.

"I.."

"Shall I put it on for you, m'lady?" she says, peering into the box,

You nod, as Elbereth disappears, Elora carefully picks up the necklace. She unhooks the clasp and places it delicately around your neck. Fastening it, she releases a small squeal of excitement.

"The King must really like to give you such a gift!"

You don't quite know what to say and seeing this, Elora takes your hand away from the bookcase and gives it a squeeze. Leading you out the door, she stops to give you a hug. Her kindness towards you never ceases to amaze you and having only known her for five days, she was like younger sister to you. Forgetting that elves age differently, you had assumed that she was nearly as old as you, perhaps slightly younger, despite being at least half a foot taller as she bends down into the hug; she was still nowhere as tall as the King.

"Would you like me to walk you there?"

"No thanks…I'll be fine" You lie.

"Ok then, m'lady. Carry on down the corridor and turn right, then take the second left to the Ballroom."

You gulp. Turning to walk off, you have no idea what will await you.

"Have fun!" she waves at you as you glance back showcasing your best fake smile.

Upon reaching the first turn you recognise where you are. Tarron's chambers are to your left, shaking your head, you continue forward as you begin to take in short breaths. Passing by door after door, you begin to smell the scent of lavender and wild roses; you know it isn't far to go. Eventually you take the second left and stop dead in front of a vast open doorway, brimming with tall, elegant bodies inside, this must be it.

As soon as you enter the room, you feel dazed. Speechless in awe of the flamboyant décor, you almost lose your footing down the stairs at the entrance. Luckily, the elves appear to give you enough room to walk down without anyone getting in your way; it's then that you notice they aren't deliberately helping you, they're staring at you.

A hush breaks out as you descend. All heads are turned as you make your way down, step by step, you see fingers pointing and female elves whispering to each other. This is beyond awkward. Keeping your eyes down, you avoid their glares as you reach the bottom of the stairs. The noise suddenly begins to grow and feeling unwelcome, you stick to the outskirts of the room.

An orchestra of elves begins to play and at the same time, you realise you're being pushed further and further into the middle of the Ball. You frantically spin your head, trying to find someone you recognise, but it's hopeless. You can barely see as you're promptly swamped by a crowd of male elves – it doesn't help that you only come up to some of their waists.

Bowing, they all stampede towards you, reaching out to grab your hand. You try as best you can to politely refuse their offers to dance, as your attention turns to two older elves standing not far from you. Overhearing them, the mood grows darker,

"I say, she is _far_ more impressive in person. So young, so-"

"I agree! I have never seen a human so…._tempting._"

Their words make you feel sick. Your thoughts come in to play again - Who are they? And how do they even know me? More to the point, where the bloody hell is Thranduil!?

Stumbling to find your balance, as you feel yourself being tossed from elf to elf, an arm intervenes, wrapping itself around yours. As you're pulled from the mass, you look up to find your saviour. Legolas.

"My Lady, you'll have to forgive my friends – they don't bear the same manners as I. They're just intrigued, we rarely get company; especially human."

"Oh, er, it's fine…my Prince, and thank you."

"Please, call me Legolas. And you're welcome, but shouldn't you have arrived with my father?"

"Ah, well yes...but he didn't fetch me and now I can't seem to find him."

Not that you could even see above the height of the elves anyway.

"Perhaps he is waiting to make a grand entrance, he does like to make a show."

You giggle as he nudges you, feeling slightly at ease now that you've found a friendly face.

"Here, let me introduce you to my friends…there's Adamar, Beluar, Edyrm, Wyrran and my closest friend of all, Nym."

You hear an uproar of mock complaints as he exposes his favourite. In turn, they all take your hand, gushing with apologies for their earlier behaviour.

"I'm pleased to meet you all."

You address them, surprised at how confident you sound and feeling the heat on your cheeks grow, you take in the elven men who stand before you. Their hair is finer than silk, their complexions pale yet healthy with long limbs and gleaming white teeth. You'd never seen a better line up of men.

Standing not too far from them, are a group of rather envious looking female elves. They glare at you as their partners shower you with attention. Legolas sees you looking away from them.

"Don't mind them, they're just jealous of my good looks. It comes with the burden of being a Prince…" He grins.

"…they'll leave after the Ball is over, no ladies are to be present at the conference."

You smile at his humour and take the hint, acknowledging the fact that you won't be allowed in either.

"If I could have your attention please…"

All heads turn to the doorway as a deathly silence prevails.

"…I present to you, his Royal Highness, King Thranduil."

At the top of the stairs stands a figure dressed in the finest silver tunic you have ever seen.

His legs are clothed in a tight fitting pair of black trousers and his knee high boots accentuate his seven foot tall stature. His berry crown draws attention to his shining hair, and his bold eyebrows contrast with the sparkling blue of his eyes.

You thought he was close before, but this…this is perfection.

Fully aware of this, he strolls proudly to the foot of the stairs. The male elves bow low, whilst the females curtsey. Legolas tugs lightly on your dress, reminding you to follow suit. Spotting this, Thranduil's trademark smirk makes an appearance. He looks menacing, but you can't deny, he is gorgeous.

Embarrassed by your thoughts, you focus back on Legolas, loosing track of the King's whereabouts as he delves into the sea of elves.

"He certainly made his entrance." You mumble under your breath, still slightly annoyed at being left to enter alone. Legolas hears you.

"Hahaa! You had better get used to it my Lady, my father likes doing things his own way."

Winking, he wanders off into the crowd as his friends break up. You tiptoe, jumping slightly to find the King. Giving up, you spot someone else: Tarron. He notices you too, but instead of returning your friendly smile, he shoots you a cold stare. He's not alone either. Tauriel is stood by his side and the conversation looks serious, so you keep away. Why-how can he still be mad?

Fed up of battling against the stronger bodies, you turn around to head over towards the far right corner, the least crowded of the four. All you see now are legs as you wind through various limbs. Your dress is getting tighter as you feel yourself drowning, your heart strains as you gasp for air. The crowd seems to get thicker and despite your weak attempts to make them move, no-one lets you pass. Panicked, you feel faint.

With your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your body gives way, but before you hit the floor, a huge pair of arms snake around your waist pulling you into them tightly. Leaning against someone's chest, you slowly open your heavy eyelids to see Thranduil gazing down at you.

He looks concerned, but after registering you are unharmed, his head dips down to your ear as he whispers,

"It wouldn't be a Ball without a bit of drama, would it now? My Lady."

You go to move, but his arms are firm, forcing you to stay in place. Oddly enough, you find his hold pleasant, it makes you feel secure…but you know that this isn't your place. He's an elven King and you are a human.

"P..Please my King, I would like to-"

"Dance? Oh, but of course."

He releases you, but quickly takes hold of your hand as the music swells. Feeling calmer, you settle into position, he places one hand on yours, and the other back on your waist. It's hard to keep your head up and it hurts your neck trying to keep eye contact due to his height, so you look across his arm at the rest of the elves.

You didn't realise it was just you two dancing.

"Are you enjoying the evening so far, my Lady?"

"I...yes, my King."

"Good. It seems I have a talent for picking out the best dresses for you, don't you think?…"

Lowering his voice, it deepens,

"…you look stunning."

Blushing a deep red, you look to the floor. After several more turns, he takes his hand off your waist and just as he is about to speak, a less appealing elf strikes up conversation. Waving his hand, Thranduil cuts him off. Taking your hand in his, he lets his lips graze the back of your skin, creating a tickling sensation that makes you smile. You try to hide it.

"I'm afraid, my darling, that I must speak with Lord Elrond. I shall be with you later."

Curtseying as he departs, you feel flustered, but content. Walking off to find Legolas, you are tapped on the shoulder. Spinning round, you see a familiar face. It's Nym.

"My Lady, would you do me the honour of having the next dance?"

You glance over to Thranduil, assuming he won't mind as he continues to talk with what looks like another Royal elf.

"I would love to."

Swaying round the room, you're actually having fun. The colours blur as you waltz around the other couples. Nym is a surprisingly competent dancer, but not quite as good as Thranduil. He isn't bad looking either – but you doubt there's even such a thing as a bad looking elf. He has darker hair than most of the elves, but he is no less handsome.

Wondering what qualities make him Legolas' best friend, you are taken from your thoughts. You yelp as you're unexpectedly dragged from your partner to face an enraged elven King, you shrink as he towers over you.

His fingers dig into your shoulders. His nostrils flaring as he grits his teeth.

"Outside. Now."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Hauled from the Ballroom, Thranduil roughly leads you through a labyrinth of corridors by your upper arm. Twisting and turning, you are pulled into a room so grand, it's undoubtedly his chambers. Letting go of you, he slams the doors shut. He moves past you and begins to pace around the room. You hate the silence as you stand immobile, too scared to move.

Stopping, he turns to look at you. His eyes are blazing. You can tell he's pissed.

"So you prefer to dance with _lowly_ elves…"

You remain silent.

"…did you enjoy the feeling of his arms around you?"

You can't answer.

"Did you yearn for him whilst you were dancing with me?"

You look away from his piercing stare. The rumours about his temper flooding your mind.

"Did you wish it was he who had asked you to the Ball?"

"But…I wasn't-"

"I WATCHED YOU THE ENTIRE TIME, DO YOU THINK I'M A FOOL?!"

You wince at his words as your timid attempt to challenge his interrogations had caused him to roar. Trembling with fear, you begin to sob quietly.

Ignoring you, he continues,

"Lavishing attention upon him like…like a dwarf overcome with greed! Do you really think I would have chosen you, should I have known you preferred some common elf over your King?!"

He sneers at seeing you recoil. You feel completely powerless as he walks towards you.

"Oh, my flower...why must you persist to resist me, hmm?"

Your throat swells.

"I have wanted you from the moment you set foot in these halls. I have watched you every day since. Heed my words when I say that I will have you."

Grabbing your hand, he traces his finger all the way up to your collar bone. His voice grows darker, his hair grazing your exposed shoulders as he leans in close to your face,

"Do not think I am intolerant, my love. I am patient."

He kisses your cheek and wipes away a stray tear.

"I can wait."

God, you want him.

As he goes to move his face away, you catch him (and yourself) by surprise, kissing him quickly on the lips. Unsure if this is what you really want, you shut your eyes tightly, not knowing what his reaction will be.

"Oh, my darling…" he hums,

"...you cannot simply tempt your King without promising to deliver satisfaction..."

With your heartbeat ringing loud in your ears, you run towards the door, but your efforts are in vain as you are lifted from the ground. You squeal as Thranduil picks you up wrapping your legs around his waist. His muscular body pushes you back against the closed doors.

Your chest rises and falls in anticipation as his eyes twinkle with desire,

"You drive me insane woman."

You can't breathe. He is so close to you with one knee in-between your legs you can feel the growing bulge in his trousers as his arousal deepens. Inhaling his vanilla and cinnamon scent, you can't help but imagine what his skin must taste like. It's killing you not to succumb to him, but your inner voice tells you it's not a good idea…what if it _is_ a trap?

Curling his finger around a strand of your hair, he pulls you in, kissing you hard. You soon run out of breathe as he drinks from your mouth, tasting you, quenching his lust for you. Pushing your hands lightly against his chest for support, he reluctantly pulls away from your lips, causing you to moan. His eyes are alight, lips smirking as he takes hold of both your hands by one of his. Placing them above your head, he lifts your chin and growls,

"You are mine."

* * *

Back at the ball, the King's actions have caused quite a stir. Everyone appears uncertain of how to act.

Taking control, Elrond reassures them,

"Fellow elves, do not be alarmed. The King has to attend to some, umm…urgent business. I can assure you he will be back presently."

The music slowly pipes up and the atmosphere becomes less awkward. Tarron, worried by the King's outburst at you, tries to find Legolas. Shoving his way through crowd, Tauriel is hot on his heels,

"Tarron, wait! He's over here!"

Surprisingly, she appears to express concern about you and upon finding Legolas, she is the first to ask about you,

"What happened? Where did he take her?!"

"I'm sorry Tauriel, I do not know…but he wouldn't dare harm her, you know that."

"Well we don't know that, do we." Tarron spits irritably, "didn't you see which direction they went?"

Shaking his head, Legolas apologises for a second time. Tauriel's face contorts in confusion,

"What was he even mad for?"

Nym, steps forward, looking embarrassed,

"We…we were just dancing and then the King pulled her away. It was as if-"

"So this is _your_ fault?"

"Erm, no-"

"Clearly it was, otherwise she would be here."

Legolas interrupts, defending his best friend,

"Don't blame this on Nym, if I recall, you weren't much help either. Both of you were stood chatting…and whilst I think about it, why are _you_ so bothered? You haven't even spoken to her."

He directs the question at Tauriel,

"It may come as a surprise to you, Legolas, but it's nice to have some female company around here that isn't the King's maids…and I haven't found an opportunity to talk to her yet."

Tarron erupts, "Can we just find her!"

"Look, let's just wait till the Ball is over, then you and I will go looking for her. We can check the throne room first."

Legolas goes to protest but she places her hand on his arm,

"It's best if Tarron and I just go. Neither of us are allowed at the conference anyway, and if the King doesn't show up, they'll need someone to represent our realm."

He sighs as she smiles, he knows it's for the best.

"Are you always going to insist on being right?"

His smile is playful and his gaze lingers on her for far too long, noticing this, Tarron pulls the focus back on him, worried that there may be something more between them than friendship,

"Fine. But if we have to wait, may I at least have this dance with you?"

As Tauriel hooks his arm, the pair strolls off, leaving Legolas to simmer. Although he liked her, he wasn't ready to let her know it and he certainly wasn't ready to let some ill-bred elf get in there first.

* * *

It's fast approaching midnight and the conference is minutes away from getting started.

Unaware of this, King Thranduil's hands continue to roam over your body, pawing hungrily at your dress to expose more of your milky skin. Carrying you over to his bed, he places you down softly onto the crimson sheets. He lifts you up and opens your legs over his, so that you are straddling him.

As he claims your mouth over and over again, his tongue revelling in control, you moan into his mouth wanting more. He breathes heavily as his chest rumbles at the pleasure he gets from hearing the sounds you make.

Exasperated by the layers of clothing, he rips the silver fabric of your dress in half - it seems he wouldn't have had the patience to wait for you after all. You feel a blush creep over your cheeks, you hate being this exposed. Noticing this, Thranduil gives out a low chuckle. He pushes you back so that you are lying down, head against his golden pillows. Clothed in nothing but your underwear, his hand delves between your thighs, casting aside the material, he plunges two fingers deep inside you. You cry out as he begins to move them in and out at a frustratingly slow pace. He is teasing you, and you can't help but love it.

You whine, out of breath from the pleasure,

"Please…Thra-"

He kisses you again,

"…I need..."

"Demanding more of me already, my sweet? Shame on you."

He pulls back from your kiss-swollen lips to study his work as the pressure builds in your lower stomach.

"Oh, but darling…how can you blame me…"

"…you have no idea how divine you look, squirming beneath me, dripping wet, just for me. I want to savour every moment."

You writhe and wriggle, trying to create as much friction as possible, but he refuses to quicken the pace. His huge body is almost twice the size of yours, but this appeals to him; making his dominance all the more apparent. As he moves away from your lips, he leans down into your neck, placing feather-like kisses. Your moans increase in volume as his long fingers continue their work and just as you feel you can't take any more, his head dips down to find your most sensitive spot.

"Oh God."

You thought his tongue had worked wonders in your mouth, but this was sensational. He barely gets going when the door springs wide open.

"My King, the conf-"

Seeing Thranduil between your legs, he flushes red. The King turns round to shoot him an icy stare and the guard backs out slowly,

"Get. Out."

"Yes, my King…I, I apologise. I did not kno-"

"If you are not gone within two seconds, I shall have your head as my doorstop."

And with that the guard flees. Looking back to you, Thranduil caresses your cheek and smirks, as if he enjoys leaving you on the brink,

"Well, my Lady. I'm afraid that I am needed elsewhere…"

His fingers still deep within you, he retracts them, licking them clean.

"…mmmm, I can't wait to taste you again….do _not_ leave this room."

Moving off the bed, he places a kiss onto your forehead. Straightening up his appearance, he struts over to the door whilst you let out a frustrated sigh,

"Oh do not worry, my love. I'll soon have you screaming my name."

As the door closes behind him, you lie still on the King's bed, taking in what just happened.

Your thoughts are then scattered, as the door unexpectedly creaks open again, but this time, not to a welcome face. As you scramble to cover yourself, you freeze. Recognising the intruder as the elf who you overheard from the Ball, his words whirl around your head.

Shutting the door, he sniggers,

"Well, well…it appears you look even more tempting without that dress covering up your pretty body..."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Stay away from me."

Gathering yourself up, you get as close to the back of the bed as you can. Luckily, you had managed to wriggle your underwear back on whilst the King had left. The less exposed you were the better.

Also, proving you wrong, there _is _such thing as an ugly elf and unfortunately for you, it's standing at the foot of the King's bed. He looks of a similar age to Lord Elrond, but with far more repulsive features; his nose is thin yet pointy, with a slight hook to it and his narrow eyes are a dark grey colour, lacking any signs of life.

"Come now, do not be afraid my pet..."

He skulks over to the bed,

"I have heard great tales of your beauty whispered around these halls… Ariella, isn't it?"

You whimper silently at the mention of your name,

"Such a lovely name for a face as angelic as yours…it's just a shame you're _human_."

Your eyes immediately widen in fear, as he pounces onto the bed, leaping over the barricade of silk cushions with surprising grace. Yelping as he seizes your wrists, he pins you down – he may be old, but his elven strength is still noticeable.

"Get off me!"

You thrash around, kicking your legs up you manage to catch him in the balls; a skill you've perfected from being around Tarron.

As he retreats in pain, you take the opportunity to free one of your hands from his grip to slap him hard across the cheek. Whilst he's momentarily stunned by both acts, you utilise all of your strength to push him off the bed. Darting across the room, you break away to reach for the doorknob.

Suddenly you're grabbed by the ankles and dragged back down, screaming loudly, your head hits the floor. You feel a warm substance trickle down the side of your face and break out into a wail. Regaining control over you, it's him that slaps you this time, far harder than the one gave him. It instantly bruises your left cheek.

He roughly rips your emerald necklace dangling from your chest and sends it to the floor, the small pendant shattering into tiny pieces. He leans in to kiss you, but you dodge his face, biting down hard onto his shoulder. But for this, you receive a heart-stopping blow to the ribs. You feel sick at the sharp pain that gravitates through your body.

"Human bitch…I'll teach you some manners-"

"You will die before you lay another finger on her."

A blade to his throat, you look up to see Tauriel standing over him. Tarron rushes to your side, his eyes take in your barely clothed body.

"No…"

You're hardly able to speak as helps you up, shaking violently from the shock. You feel a sudden weakness overcome you, unable to walk, you collapse onto Tarron.

"Ariella! Look at me, what's wrong?!"

"Tarron…look."

Drawing attention to the huge gash by your ribs, Tauriel's face goes white with shock. It appears that you have been stabbed, your blood dripping onto the floor, draining the life from you.

"Go. I'll take care of him…take her to the healing room. Now."

Tauriel instructs Tarron as he holds your limp body in his arms.

"Tarron, go!"

Breaking out of the daze, he sweeps up your body gently into his arms, carrying you bridal style. You hear them mumble directions in elvish as you drift in and out of consciousness.

Exiting the room swiftly with you in his arms, he heads off back down the hallway, it isn't long before you black out completely.

Upon reaching the healers, Tarron yells at them to move faster as they tell him they'll try to do everything they can, but he must stay calm. They also say you've lost a lot of blood, and that saving you may prove to be a struggle...

Tears falling from his eyes, he presses his lips to your hand and whispers,

"Please…stay with me…"

Meanwhile in the conference hall, representatives of each of the elven realms debate what is to be done in order to counteract the dark forces on the move.

"…no, no no! We cannot simply drive them away by our armies alone; we need the backing of others."

Legolas voices his opinions, sitting next to a rather displeased King.

"Yes, my Prince! We should ride into battle with a colossal army behind us, one that would put _theirs_ to shame!"

"But we cannot ask for the help of dwarves! And what of men? Their race threw aside our trust long ago, when they had the chance to-"

"That was one man alone. You cannot taint the entire race of men with the same shade of black as you do Isildur."

Lord Elrond's voice is strong and causes the room to quieten. He turns his gaze to Thranduil.

"King Thranduil, what do _you_ say?"

All eyes turn to the head of the long table, as the Elf King leans his head back to rest on the chair. Looking bored and unimpressed by all the suggestions that have been made, he turns his head to Elrond, then back to the other elves. Throwing one leg over the other as he speaks,

"We must do whatever is necessary to keep our lands safe. If an alliance with men is needed, then so be it."

They all nod in agreement until out of the blue, Lindir's chair collapses. Pulling down Elrond as he goes, it causes a domino effect to occur which sends the elves at one side of the table crashing to the floor. Laughter surges, booming from all walls, as the conference takes a slight detour - much to the King's disgust. Although fiercely protective of his people, he disliked Silvan elves at the best of times. But other elf officials were _far_ worse.

Sighing, the King's thoughts turn to you as he gazes into thin air, longing to be back with you. He wasn't completely sure why you had such a hold over him, especially seen as though it was he who had once frowned upon the mixing of races. But he just couldn't get enough of you.

In the midst of the commotion, a small elf boy, quietly enters the room, he appears to be some sort of messenger. Making his way over to the table, he avoids making contact with any of the other elves, except the King. He bows before speaking.

"My King, Ariella is injured. She was attac-"

Thranduil's face drops. But before the boy can finish, he is out of his seat, storming towards the door. Without uttering a single word, he leaves.

Catching up with him, Legolas is evidently irritated by his father's irrational behaviour.

"First you cause a scene at the Ball and now this! What will the others think?"

His father pays him no attention.

"Why do you keep on disappearing off like this? And where is Ariella? We were worried about her you know! From what Nym says she did nothing wrong, all my friends seemed to like her and she doesn't exactly look the trouble-making type."

"Go back, Legolas. This is not of your concern."

The young Prince falls behind, leaving Thranduil to make his way to the healers alone.

"You can't keep this from me. I'm going to find out what's going on sooner or later."

Hearing his son shout, the King has no time to comprehend what he says. Although he cannot understand it, it's plain to see that his attachment to you is strong. Never has he felt this way about anyone, elf _or_ human.

Bursting into the healing room, he sees you lying weak and unconscious on a healing bed. His eyes never leave your face as he sits beside you on a wooden chair, taking in your delicate state. Tarron glares at him through tear-stained eyes as Thranduil takes your free hand in his.

"How is she?"

His voice is barely audible, as a lump forms in his throat.

"She is responding well and we have managed to stop the bleeding, my King."

He winces at the mention of blood, outraged by the fact that his actions have landed her here. There are at least five healers present, all females, and in appearance, they aren't too much younger than the King himself.

"This is all _your_ fault."

Throughout all the years that you and Tarron have been friends, never has he seen you hurt…and it kills him knowing that the person responsible is right here in this exact room.

"When she wakes up, tell her I-"

"Tell her yourself."

Sensing the tension about to erupt, the healers tending you retreat to the back of the room.

"Do not forget who you are speaking to Tarron. She may be your friend, but _I_ am the King."

"You got jealous, didn't you. That's why you stopped them dancing. Then what? You took her to your room to have your wicked way with her? Then you left her alone, for some vile creature to attack her? Or is that what you wanted. Did you plan for her to get stabbed, did you want her to feel pain, to feel revenge?"

"You know nothing."

The King puts a hand to your forehead, soothing it delicately.

"Oh, I think I know enough. I've heard of your 'possessive' nature."

Shaking his head, Thranduil refuses to give Tarron a response. Despite the fact that he knows what he's saying is right.

"Do you know how it felt to see the life draining from her, to hear her heartbeat fading, to hold her fragile body in my arms?"

It hurts Thranduil far more than he knows it should do to hear him speak of you in such a way and he feels strangely envious that it was Tarron who saved you. He hates what you do to his emotions, first noticing it at the Ball. It scared him how easily you could manipulate them without intention. The Thranduil that he knew wouldn't have reacted like that. He rarely lashed out or got jealous. Rumours of his 'wrath' were just myths until you came. Quite frankly, he couldn't even remember the last time he got mad. But since you had arrived, things were different.

"Do you not think I feel guilty!? She is…my guest, as are you. _I_ should have been the one to protect her."

"But you didn't, did you? Oh great '_King Thranduil'_…"

Tarron knows he's pushing it.

"Do not mock me, boy. You are in _my_ realm and I am your King-"

"YOU ARE _NOT_ MY KING!"

Immediately, Tarron is seized by the guards from outside the healing room door. He is snatched away from your side and forced to his knees, the blood in his veins boiling.

"Take him to the dungeons. Do not release him until I say so."

Thranduil bends down to taunt him with a smirk playing on his lips,

"…perhaps then you will see things differently."

Once Tarron is gone, the King sits back down at your side, but with the guilt surging, he is unable to look at you for much longer. Departing from the room, he makes his way back to the conference hall. As he passes by curtseying elf maidens, they stick to the far side of the hallway. He's not usually a frightening elf as such, just rather imposing. Until now.

Upon reaching the hall, no-one is there and from what happens next, this is most likely a good thing. Slamming the doors shut, Thranduil explodes. Overturning the table, he screams in anger. Sending a chair flying across to the other side of the room, he collapses into a heap on the floor. He's not only angry at you for making him feel this way, but he's angry with himself. If he can't hide his feelings for you, he knows that you'll have to leave….


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Waking up, you take in the familiar surroundings of your chambers. As your eyes flutter open, you see Elora standing by the fireplace in front of your bed. Your head throbs as you lift up your hand to feel the tender bump just to the right of your temple. Attempting to sit upright, a pain shoots up from around your ribs, causing you to groan in distress.

"My Lady, you're awake! Now now, you must not move; healers orders."

She rushes over to you and settles you back down slowly, the pain immediately subsiding. Perching on the chair beside your bed, she leans in to take a better look at you, her face shows concern as she feels your temperature.

"Mmm, slightly better. We were getting worried about you, m'lady. You'd lost a lot of blood, it was- actually, can you remember much?"

"Uh…well, I can't really remember what happened after…"

"..After the attack?"

You pause, realising that everyone must know, which also means that they know you were in the King's chambers…in your underwear. Foolishly you'd thought that Tarron wouldn't tell anyone what had happened to you, trying to spare your dignity. But now, a wave of embarrassment washes over you for the billionth time since you'd arrived here.

"After Tarron and Tauriel had found you, you were very weak, so Tarron had to carry you to the healers. They weren't sure you'd survive the night! Aaah, he's such a hero…anyway, whilst you were being treated, the King found out and came thundering in to see you. The healing maids told me that something then went off between his highness and Tarron which caused the King to send him to the dungeons! It's been very odd around here since you were attacked."

Your mouth hangs open in disbelief.

"Wooaah, wait-what?! Tarron's been imprisoned? And 'since'? How long have I been unconscious?"

"Take it easy, m'lady, nobody knows the reason for his captivity, the healers have been told not to say anything on the matter and as for how long you've been here, I think it's about two days or so."

"Two days?!"

"Yes, m'lady"

"Well, we have to get Tarron out! I'm sure Tauriel would help and Legolas, maybe even N-"

"Oh no, my Lady! That would not be at all wise. Not when….ah, you must rest."

The fire crackles as a silence falls in the room.

"Um, am I missing something here?"

"I suppose you'll find out sooner or later….it's the King. He hasn't allowed anyone to see him since your attack."

She averts your gaze and you sense her awkwardness.

"Oh…I, er…not even Legolas?"

"No, my Lady."

She gets up out of the chair and walks over to the bathroom as you mull over what information you've just been told. Why would Thranduil be hiding away? Maybe he feels guilty? Yeah right, it's more like he's scared of getting a bad reputation with the elf officials and doesn't want them to know that their host lets his guests be subjected to attacks by crazy stalker elves.

Snapping out of your thoughts, the smell of vanilla wafts into your room and you hear running water as Elora calls out to you,

"You'll feel much better after you've bathed, m'lady. Then I'll send for some food, we don't want you moving too much. I'll help you up in a second..."

"Ok."

As you fidget about trying to resume a comfortable position, you hear footsteps outside the chamber door. Two heads pop out from behind the door as Tauriel and Legolas glance around your room to check if you're alone.

"Legolas!"

"Sssh!"

They creep in quietly, whilst Elora busies herself in the adjoining room,

"…Ariella," He whispers. "I'm so glad you're up."

"Have you heard about Tarron?"

"Yes, we're on our way to free him, he saved you Ariella and whatever he said to the King, I'm sure he didn't mean it."

Tauriel surprises you, this is the first time she's spoken to you and you quickly remember it was she who also saved you.

"Can I come with you?"

"No, you are still recovering, we can't take any risks. We must drift like the tide and be nimble as-"

He stops upon hearing both of you giggling at his choice of words.

"Come on, Legolas. She'll be fine, she's his best friend. You would want to come if it were me."

They share a look similar to the one you've before. Breaking away from her smile, he huffs,

"Fine. But stay with Tauriel and keep your head down."

You nod as they help you up out of the bed. Much to your delight, as you stand up the pain from your side feels far better and although your head still aches, Tarron is your main focus.

Exiting your chambers with Legolas leading, you soon fall behind unaware. Panting, you lean against a wooden pillar to catch your breath, easing the slight pain that reappears in your ribs.

"Sorry guys, I just need a minute…"

But looking up, you find yourself talking to an empty hallway.

"Great."

You realise that Legolas must have 'drifted like the tide' to the dungeons without you. As your breathing pattern begins to regulate, you carry on until you're faced with two possible pathways. Having no clue where you are, you choose at random. Coming to the end of the long stretch you've just walked, a door awaits.

"This doesn't look much like the dungeons…"

Talking to yourself you gently push open the door, mindful of your injuries. Upon entering into what appears to be a- well you can't really make out what it is. It's so dark, that you don't dare tread any further for fear of stepping on something, or in your case, falling over.

Squinting to see past the shadows, you hear a sudden loud bang that makes your heart thud against your chest. Whipping around, you face the closed doors.

"Hey!"

Pushing onto them, they refuse to budge. You bang your fists on the door and yell,

"Is anyone there? Helloooo…let me out!"

You sigh and give up. Sliding onto the floor, your head is pounding as you grumble,

"Goddamn Legolas and his stupid 'nimble-ness'…"

Rubbing your forehead, you look around and begin to make out certain dark features, but without any candle light, you don't want to risk it.

"…why do these things _always_ happen to me!? I almost get killed by orcs, fall into a freezing cold river of death only, get whisked away into captivity,_ then _I get attacked by a freaky elf, get rendered unconscious, find out Tarron is in prison and now Thranduil is-"

"Oh my dear….I do hope you aren't going insult me after _my_ healers saved you?"

The room lights up and you see him smirking down at you from his throne. You inwardly groan, realising what the dark features must have been. Startled, you scramble up onto your feet and brush the dust from your dress. Suddenly remembering that it was he who left you alone, you make a witty reply,

"Actually, it was _Tarron_ who saved me."

You see his grin fade.

"But where is he now? Ah yes, in the dungeons…"

He makes his way down the stairs as you head towards the doors to the left of the throne.

"….but I'm glad that you have made a full recovery. Although, there's no use is wasting all your energy to try and open them, elvish magic."

Ignoring his words, you try to force them open, but your side aches.

"Open them!" You whine.

He laughs at your pathetic attempt and stands with his arms folded watching you.

"This is all your fault. You left me, for that…that vile creature to attack me and now you're just hiding in here because you can't stand the fact that Tarron was the one to save me and not you."

The atmosphere turns tense as you realise you may have overstepped the mark. But you both know that what you say is true. He opens his mouth to speak, but falters. His eyes leave yours as he looks away from you. This is the first time you've rendered him speechless and it's proving to be rather uncomfortable.

You almost want to beg him to say something as the silence between you becomes unbearable. Thankfully, he moves. Offering his hand out to you, his eyes are on the throne.

You shake your head.

His facetious nature makes you slightly anxious and you're unsure of how he may act.

"N...No.."

Disapproving of your answer, lunges towards you and seizes your hand. He begins to lead you back up to his throne but you manage to wiggle out of his grasp.

"I don't want to be your human p... plaything."

Pushing against him, you turn to make your way down again, but he lifts you up and throws you over his shoulder like a ragdoll.

"Put me down!"

You protest and slam your fists against his back, even though you know he won't feel it. It hurts your side, and you can feel a sharp pain returning. But to your relief, you are plopped down, only to be seated in his throne. He goes down onto one knee so that he is face level with you, but you turn your face away from his.

"Ariella…look at me."

Hearing him say your name makes you feel weak but you refuse to face him. Instead, he places a finger under your chin and turns your head to his.

"You. Are. _Not…_my plaything."

You want to believe him – but you still don't quite get why an elf King would be so interested in you; a human.

"B..But even if I'm not…why did you arrest Tarron? And why won't you see anyone?"

He sighs.

"I never meant for you to get hurt, Ariella. You must know this. As for Tarron, he is a fool, but do not worry, he is safe. But he must be taught a lesson."

You look away from him again, knowing that he is avoiding your questions.

"I meant what I said before. Ariella, I thought you were going to die…and although I have known you for fewer days than I would hope to…"

He takes your hand in his and kisses it. The sensation of his lips on the back of your hand reminds you of what you are missing. Just his touch sets you on fire.

As Thranduil releases your hand, he leans in to you, whispering softly,

"…I cannot stop thinking of you."

Your lips are so close and despite that you know he wants you to give in, you couldn't care less. His very presence makes you feel safe and the anxiety you felt before dissipates.

Your breathing quickens and your eyes close as you exhale into his kiss. His lips are soft and warm, but you soon feel yourself being lifted once more out of his throne as he picks you up, legs wrapped around his waist. Deepening the kiss, his tongue tastes every inch of your mouth and as you cling to his tall body, you can feel the muscles beneath his clothes tense.

Sitting back down with you still wrapped around him, you're now in his lap as he leans back against his throne. You remove your hands from around his strong shoulders and venture to touch the hair at the back of his neck. As you do so, he lets out a low groan that makes you quiver.

He pulls you closer to him, as his hands wander across your body, feeling all of your curves, deciding what to do next. He breaks away from your lips and dips down to your ear,

"Ariella…"

Thranduil half moans your name in desperation,

"…do not tease your King…I know you want me…"

You throw your head back as he trails kisses along your collarbone. Whining in frustration at his light touch, he smirks, knowing that you want more.

"Oh my darling…no amount of whining can change what I'm going to do to you."

And with that he lifts up your dress, his hand glides down to find your underwear. But upon hearing a cough that belongs to neither of you, he stops.

"Father. I wish to speak with you…._alone_."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

You immediately rush out of the doors, the heat growing in your cheeks at the embarrassment of being seen with the King by his son. Although you know you shouldn't hang around, you can't help but put your ear to the door and listen in to their conversation.

"Why are you being like this? If you're not storming about the place or rushing off in the middle of important meetings, you lock yourself away and refuse to speak with anyone!"

Thranduil remains seated in his throne, whilst his son paces around the floor.

"I do not have to explain myself to you, Legolas."

"Perhaps not, but what about the others? What about your people? Do you not care-"

"Have you come to lecture your father, whom may I remind you is King, about the welfare of his people, those he has protected all these years?"

Legolas lowers his eyes, knowing he speaks the truth.

"I merely wanted to tell you what they are thinking. Those who attended the conference went home believing that you, ah…weren't exactly yourself. If they don't think we are serious about the safety of this realm they will not help us. They also say it's to do with a woman…more specifically, Ariella."

The King freezes upon hearing you name, and you lean further in, desperately trying to hear his response.

"She is none of your business. She is a guest here and will remain so, until I say otherwise."

"Yes, but Father, you have to admit how erratic your moods have been since she has arrived. Ariella is my friend and even though I have not known her long, I do not wish for her to get caught up in your… affairs. If it's true, if you do like her-"

"ENOUGH!"

Thranduil refuses to take any more of his nonsensical babblings.

"…I do not like her…"

Your heart sinks. Stepping away from the door, you feel sick. It seems that Tarron was right after all. He had lied; you were his plaything. Your eyes begin to fill up with tears as the hurt and shame surfaces. You want to run. And that's exactly what you do.

Upon reaching your chambers Elora is making your bed. As you stand there watching her, you realise just how much you miss everyone, your family, the village. You feel homesick. Making a split decision, you slowly back out of the room, hoping she hasn't heard you enter. Rushing back down the halls, you see a group of elven maids, giggling to themselves, their eyes look you up and down in disgust. You're so angry at Thranduil, you feel like crying.

As you near the huge doors that lead out to the forest, you check for guards. You hide behind a wooden pillar as you spot two of them either side of the door. Stuck for ideas, you take off your cream footwear and throw them in the opposite direction. They make a clapping sound as they hit the floor and the guards' attention is immediately diverted. Seizing your chance, you head for the door. Heaving them open you feel weak and drained of all your strength. But you're out, away from the dirty looks and humiliation caused by Thranduil and more importantly, you're free.

Yet, unbeknown to you, the King's conversation with his son had continued...

"…I am completely and utterly in love with her."

Thranduil's shock revelation causes Legolas' mouth to hang wide open.

"B…But-you..I"

"I understand that this may come as a surprise to you as I haven't known her for that long, but I cannot deny my feelings for Ariella. She has stirred something within me that I thought was long dead and perhaps I have been not quite myself, but I only hope that now you will understand why."

Legolas contemplates his father's words and forms a smile.

"I am happy for you, ada. Truly…"

"Why is it that I am sensing a 'but'? My son, if there is something you wish to sa-"

"It's nothing. Ariella and I have become friends…I just worry that this may put her in further danger, as now she is not just a human in these lands, she's _your_ human."

Thranduil acknowledges that elves are protective, and like him, they do not take kindly to strangers. The female elves are particularly defensive over him and can become violently jealous by the mere mention of your name, but the King waves off these thoughts.

"Your concern is appreciated Legolas, but from now on, she remains in my chambers and attends all meetings with me. At no time should she be unsupervised, I will make sure that no more harm comes to her."

* * *

Before interrupting you and the King, Legolas and Tauriel had managed to free Tarron, only noticing your absence when in the dungeons. Tauriel had taken him back to her chambers, and ordered him to stay put, under no instructions was he to leave. But to this, he did protest.

"Tauriel come on, I need to see if she's ok."

"No! If you get caught, it's not just you that gets punished!"

He huffs.

"Look, I'll stay here with you for a bit, Legolas had to talk to his father-"

"Fine. But I can't stay in here forever, what about when he finds out I'm not in the dungeons anymore!?"

"Well….ah, we haven't really thought that far…but I'm sure Legolas can persuade the King to see-"

"Great. This is fantastic. We have no plan here and unless he is a skilled emotional manipulator, I doubt that the blond princess will be able to convince his unstable, idiot of a father. Damn it, I can't stand that elf!"

"….Ok, wow….erm, what actually happened between you two? I mean, why did he imprison you anyway?"

"Because he's a fool, why else?"

"Tarron! The King may not be the wisest, but he has kept us safe and provided for us all these years. I'm sure that the decisions he makes are for the best."

"Oh please, do you actually believe that? Tell me then, why did he allow for Ariella to fall victim to a savage beast of an elf? Why was I punished for speaking the truth and sticking up for my best friend? Yeah, sounds like some pretty wonderful decisions he's made."

"Let's just talk about something else…what about your home? I was going to ask you about it at the Ball, but it didn't seem like a good time. I know you're not from around here and yet you are an elf? If you do not mind me asking, how can this be?"

"I was abandoned as an elf-ling, Ariella's mother was going to take me in, but she couldn't cope. Instead, her sister adopted and raised me."

"Oh…what's she like?"

"My mother? Oh, she's amazing…"

As he continues, Tarron never knew he could talk to anyone except Ariella about his life back in the village. It feels weirdly good, but it also reminds him of what he misses: his family and you.

* * *

"You would disobey me, again?"

Thinking you were alone, you stop dead in your tracks. The wood is dark and the path is unclear, yet upon first entering, the anger you felt made you almost oblivious to the possible dangers…but this enemy, you knew.

You turn to your left. His tone is harsh and you are reminded why you used to fear him. But you're just too angry and upset to care. He stands there with his sword sheathed by his side, as he stares at you sternly, his tall figure stepping forward from the shadows onto the path in front of you. Even in the dark he looks good. The elegant bastard.

"What's it to you? I can leave if I want to."

You barge past him feeling slightly satisfied with yourself until you're promptly spun around as he grabs you by the upper arm.

"Do not toy with my emotions, Ariella. I can assure you, those who do, live to regret it."

If he had said this at any other time, you would have melted into his arms. Somehow, his dominant nature made you feel protected…and rather turned on. But how could he deny any emotional attachment to you in front of his son!? You could only think of one possible explanation for it: you are an embarrassment. He wouldn't want everyone knowing about his _human whore_. After all, he's much too dignified for that. Attempting to pull away from his grasp, you form the idea that he thinks you're playing the 'hard to get' role.

"Let me go!"

You wiggle against his hold, but it only seems to make his grip grow firmer; making you all the more frustrated. You want to scream and cry at the same time for letting him make you feel this way. As angry tears threaten to spill, Thranduil's face contorts in confusion as he watches you unfold.

"How could you! I knew, I knew all along th-that this would h..happen…"

You can barely get your words out in between gasping for air as all of your energy is taken up from crying.

"Ariella…wh-"

Managing to slip away from his iron hold, your free arm is now out of his reach as you make a swift turn in an attempt to run away. Thranduil refuses to let you go and uses little effort is yanking you back to face him. His eyes lock with yours and they are pleading, full of concern at seeing you in this state. But his words to Legolas circle round your head. Seething, you slap him across his stupidly perfect cheek.

Your hand instantly covers your mouth as you gasp at your own actions. His grasp on you is no more as he turns his face slowly back to yours. Although you know he is not violent, as he takes in a deep breath and draws himself up to his full height, you feel small and awfully intimidated. Taking small steps back, you whimper.

"Thr…I…Pl-Please, I'm so sorry…I-"

"That, my darling, was a _big_ mistake."

Shivering, you can't risk waiting to see your punishment so you run as fast as your tired legs can go. You bare feet are sore and your heart is pounding so hard, it's ready to burst. To make things worse, you fall over a protruding root and collapse into an exhausted, muddy heap. Scrambling to sit up, you soon see that it wasn't a root, but someone's boot. Typical.

You open your mouth to speak, but you're cut off.

"You are coming back with me. Whether you want to or not."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

As you both arrive back at the halls, a guard immediately greets Thranduil.

"My King, the prisoner has escaped."

He rolls his eyes and exhales deeply. After practically dragging you back, he looks surprisingly composed, but as he turns around to face you his eyes darken.

"I'll deal with you later."

He turns back to the guard and instructs him sternly.

"Take her to my chambers. I want guards on _both_ sides of the doors. Let no-one in or out."

Two more guards appear and seize you by the arms. They begin to take you away but you aren't done. Despite the fact that you knew you shouldn't have slapped him, you still felt angry that he had used you. How could he expect you to want to stay after hearing that? True, he didn't know you were listening in, but when you had confronted him about it before Legolas had burst in, he'd denied it. Damn it, he even got caught trying to get it on with you and he still couldn't admit that he at least likes you.

"You have no right keeping me here against my will. If this is how you treat all of your 'guests', I'm not surprised that you have such a bad reputation...you aren't fit to be a King."

He turns on his heels and walks over to you, roughly lifting up your face to meet his cold gaze.

"Haven't learnt your lesson, I see?"

Your bad temper was indeed one of your main faults, as Tarron had often reminded you, but you believed that in this instance, you were completely blameless. In no way were you overreacting, this was entirely his fault. Yet despite being livid, looking into his eyes, you can't deny you still feel attracted to him.

He leans in further so that you are now inches away from his face. The top of his tunic shows off his bare neck and you're almost tempted to steal a glance to his Addams apple, but you keep your focus on his eyes.

"I would stay quiet if I were you. Due to your little scheme to free your friend, you have now wasted more than enough of my time and I am not known for being tolerant."

Taking his hand away, he walks off down the opposite hall. If he was ugly, it would make things a lot easier. His perfect blond hair swaying as you raise your voice to him.

"It wasn't me who freed him. You might want to speak to your son."

Hearing the last word you say, he freezes. You feel like smirking. Maybe now he will know what it feels like when someone you care for deceives you. He calls for another guard and instructs him to do something, but you can't make out what and as you're pulled away to Thranduil's chambers, you are suddenly hit with the realisation that you have just dropped Legolas right in it.

* * *

Whilst the King had discovered the news of your disappearance from a watch-guard, Legolas had returned to join Tarron and Tauriel. Nym arrived shortly after in hope that he could help, despite the awkward reception Tarron gave him, he still felt slightly guilty from the night at the Ball.

They knew it wouldn't be long before the King would catch on about Tarron's escape. After discussing various attempts at how they could get out of this situation, it doesn't take long for attentions to start turning towards whose fault it all is.

As Tarron steps forward to voice his idea, Nym flinches.

"Why not put the blame on someone else?"

"Like who?"

"I don't know..."

"Wonderful input, oh Tarron the wise." Legolas snipes.

"I'm sorry, but I don't see you coming up with anything either."

"We would not have to be doing this, if it wasn't for you. We have risked my father's trust by helping you; it was Tauriel who persuaded me. If she were not here, I wouldn't have even bothered to help you out. All of this was caused by your foolish actions-"

"So saving a person's life is classed as being foolish? I'm glad I don't live by your standards."

Tauriel feels the tension begin to arise between the two elves and tries to think of something to soften the mood, but Nym beats her to it, making a surprise contribution to the conversation.

"What about a dungeon guard? The King is well aware of their tendencies to have a bit too much wine…"

"Yes! That could work, but we would need to check which guards were on duty. I'll go t-"

"Wait."

Tarron and Tauriel both sigh at Legolas' stubbornness.

"What now?"

"I just don't feel comfortable allowing our kin to take all the blame. I think _he_ shoul-"

"Legolas, what choice do we have? _We_ were the ones who let him go, therefore we must figure this out. If you can think of anything better, then please tell me. But for now, that's all we have. Ok?"

"Fine. But I don't think he'll buy it."

"Why don't you stop being so pessimistic all the time and try…"

As Tarron stops mid-sentence, all eyes turn to the door.

"My Prince…"

A messenger bows low. He rises to look at Legolas.

"…his highness wishes to see you."

Legolas looks over to Tauriel, who looks to the floor. No one is quite sure what will happen. The King surely knows, but what can he say? There's no doubt he'll see through their plan.

"Tell the King I shall be there shortly."

"I am sorry, my Prince…but he wishes to speak with all of you, including the prisoner."

* * *

As Tauriel and Tarron traipse in, Nym lurks behind looking fearful, followed by the young prince. Standing across the other side, you manage a weak smile aimed at Tarron, who you haven't seen since the incident. Thinking about it, you haven't actually spoken to him since he shouted at you for making Tauriel leave. In turn, they all bow to the King before shuffling back, trying to escape the awkwardness brought on by the lasting silence.

The guards immediately grab Tarron by the shoulders whilst another one orders you to stand in line next to Legolas and Tauriel. As you are guided in-between them you feel his gaze burning into you, following your every move. Once you are all in place facing the throne, Thranduil assesses each of you and as soon as his gaze passes to you, you turn your head to the floor. Noticing this, he stands upright, smirking proudly. Despite your outbursts and angry temper, when it comes down to it, he knows he who has the power here and so do you.

"It has come to my attention that all _four_ of you assisted the prisoner's escape. Would anyone care to tell me why you thought this necessary?"

Legolas speaks first.

"I know that it would appear this way, father, but it was not us who released Tarron."

"Is that so?"

Thranduil folds his arms and you can't help but notice his biceps strain underneath the tight fabric of his dark tunic. He tilts his head as his eyes narrow on Legolas; it's obvious he isn't buying into whatever excuse they must have thought up, why didn't he just tell him the truth? You figure it must be an elven trait and furrow your brows as you try to focus on something else in the room.

"Yes, Tauriel and I were merely checking the dungeons when we saw one of the guards free him."

"Well….it appears my own son mistakes me for a fool."

"Father? It is the truth, Nym wasn't even involved and Ariella was-"

"I have witnesses, who would claim otherwise. They tell me that you and Tauriel set Tarron free. I also have the knowledge that a certain Lady was involved in the planning of this and that Nym assisted in distracting the guards."

All eyes are downcast as no-one dares admit that he's right.

"Therefore, I will ask again. Why did you all think this necessary?"

"There was no reason for him to be imprisoned in the first place."

Everyone's head turns to you. Thranduil's eyes catch yours and you know this won't go down well, but how else were they going to justify this? It was all up to you now.

"Tell me, my Lady…" his voice dripping with sarcasm,

"…do you know what warranted his imprisonment?"

Sheepishly, you shake your head, wishing that you had never spoken up.

"Then how can you possibly-"

"My King, I-we are unreservedly sorry for testing your judgement. I can assure you that it will not happen again and we will do whatever we can to gain back your trust, your Highness."

Tauriel always had a way with words, but this time you weren't so sure you agreed. She clearly doesn't believe the words she is saying, seeing as though it was her who wanted to rescue Tarron almost as much as you did.

You lean back a little to peer at Tarron from behind Legolas' head. Attempting to register his emotions, you see nothing but anguish, all the while, the King is watching you.

"Ariella and the prisoner shall stay. The rest of you may leave us."

His hurried tone and blatant disregard of Tauriel's apology causes you to look to Nym and Legolas in confusion. They both seem as unsure of his words as you are. You glance back as they leave the room. Tauriel exits giving you a forgiving look, behind her, Nym's face is riddled with fear.

The door closes with only you and Tarron left to face the King.

"Well, well…" he croons, sitting down on this throne, he flicks one leg over the other.

"I don't know how I managed to miss this…it's been so obvious…you're in love with him."

"What!?"

"Do not deceive me, Ariella. I have seen the looks you exchange with that abandoned ill-bred elf."

"He's my best friend, I don't think of him in that-"

"Of course, it makes perfect sense now, why you spoke out so strongly against me in the healing room…"

He ignores your defence and locks eyes with Tarron.

"Ariella is my friend, nothing more." he states.

As Tarron stares angrily at Thranduil, refusing to break eye contact, it makes you think back to the time you first got into trouble with the King. The Tarron back then shivered with fear and cowered away, but now, it was evident that he wasn't backing down.

"I find that _very_ hard to believe."

"Why? Just because you can't keep your hands off her, doesn't mean-"

"ENOUGH."

You jump a little at the volume of his shout.

"…I will not hear another word from you…I have come to the decision that you shall be taken back to your village, never to return here again. You are lucky I have let you off so lightly, others would not be so lenient…impudence to royalty is punishable by death."

His words hit you hard and panic sets in. You aren't ready to lose Tarron just yet.

"No…you can't!" you yell, as Thranduil edges forward on his throne, grinning.

"Oh…but I can."

"Please! He didn't mean to upset you! I'm begging you-"

"Despite the fact that I do enjoy seeing you like this Ariella, no matter how much you beg me, I won't be changing my mind."

"But Thranduil, please!"

"Yet, I do _love_ it when you moan my name…"

He grins, adding to your frustration.

"How can you do this?!"

"Oh, quite easily, my darling…"

Thranduil addresses the guards standing beside Tarron.

"…I suppose we should ensure that he arrives back safely…we wouldn't want Ariella getting even more upset now, would we?"

The smirk on his face is still apparent and you feel like slapping him for a second time, as tears begin to fall from your eyes, you can't let Tarron leave, not like this. You run to the other side of the room, desperately trying to reach Tarron as the guards haul him away, but you are stopped from doing so by a huge figure that blocks your way. Realising Thranduil's hold on you, it's clear that there's nothing you can do.

"…Please..." you whisper, trying to pull away from him, but it's too late.

"Ariella, my word is final. He is gone…"

He ducks his head below your ear and places a light kiss on your neck that makes you shiver.

"…and you, my sweet…are to remain with _me_."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 **

Despite the fact that you enjoy the sensation of his lips on your skin, you feel guilty wanting more after what he has just done to Tarron. Stepping back from him, you feel ashamed that you still feel this way and this only adds to your distress.

He chuckles deeply, noticing the blush now evident on your cheeks.

"You cannot hide your desire from me, Ariella."

"I hate you." you sob, wishing you weren't in this mess.

"If I recall, you were not so shy to hide from me in my chambers... anyhow, now that we are alone, we must discuss the matter of your punishment."

You had forgotten all about it. But wasn't Tarron's exile enough? What else could he do?

"But first, I will give you a chance to explain yourself..." he raises his voice and lifts his head slightly.

"..why did you run away?"

The space between the two of you is less than a few metres but you still feel intimidated and instead of answering, you turn your back to him at an attempt to hide your tears.

"Why c-couldn't you let Tarron st-stay?! He was no threat t-to you."

"I know. I also know that you don't love him."

"Then why did you ask us if we-"

"Because I needed to hear you say it."

You tilt your head, processing his words. Was he jealous?_ Well, it wouldn't exactly be the first time._

"…now, back to my original question…tell me. Why?"

"There's no point." you reply weakly, still unable to face him.

"Hmm…" he hums, one hand pressed to his lips as he begins to pace up and down behind you.

"I think I know."

He pauses and you wipe away streaking tears from your cheeks, uninterested in what he has to say.

"You ran away because you'd had enough of your King. You thought you could get what you wanted and run? Leading me on…allowing me to believe that you felt the same?"

You spin around to see him standing there, eyebrows furrowed and his pale skin slightly flustered.

"N-No. I ran away because I don't belong here a-and you're ashamed to admit that you like me, despite everything you told me after the Ball…you can't deny it, I heard y-you with Legolas.."

"And exactly how much of the conversation did you hear?"

"I-…Enough."

"Well then clearly you misunderstood, I told Legolas tha-"

"No, please...just stop. I don't want to here anymore of your lies."

You look away defeated, wishing he would just disappear. But he continues to drone on.

"How can you think it is I who dislike you? After all, was it not you, Ariella, who danced without me at the ball? Did you not just attempt to run away?"

"I'd only just met him and yes, bu-"

"Then why? Why go against almost every order I give you? If you insist on breaking them, I will have no choice but to confine you to the dungeons…unless you would prefer to be Orc food?"

His sarcasm is in bad taste and he smirks, knowing it'll anger you even more. _Bastard_.

"I wish I'd never come here. I'm glad I slapped you, because you're the most arrogant, irritating, rude, delud-"

In one stride, he grabs you by your waist and pulls you flush against his torso, making you squeal.

"Ariella. Stop this now, I cannot take any more. Whatever you thought you heard me say to Legolas wasn't true. If you had been listening properly, you would have heard me tell him that I love you."

"You're lying," you whisper, looking up to search his clear blue eyes for any hints of deception.

He pulls you tighter and you let out a small gasp.

"If I have to prove it to you, so be it."

* * *

Despite having just left, word soon gets round of Tarron's departure and after exiting the throne room, Nym, Legolas and Tauriel went off in separate directions. The halls were vast, but many elves made residence here and because of this, it was rather hard to find a quiet place where nobody could disturb you.

Sitting on the dungeon steps, Tauriel knew that few elves would be around at this time. They are most likely to be routinely patrolling the borders, although she should be joining them, other things are on her mind. But there was always one who knew where to find her.

"Tauriel?"

"Oh, ah…do require my assistance?"

Rubbing her eyes, she sniffs and sorts out her appearance as she jumps to her feet.

"Not quite, I just- are you alright?"

"I'm fine..."

"You forget, Tauriel, that we've grown up together and you have never been able to lie to me yet."

This causes her to smile slightly, still avoiding his eye contact. Legolas clears his throat feeling somewhat awkward at his inability to offer any words of comfort; his speciality is certainly not matters of the heart, much like his father.

"Uh...is this to do with Tar-"

"Legolas, I am grateful for your concern, but shouldn't a Prince have more pressing duties to attend to?"

"…You always have me, you know."

The sparkle relights in her eyes and Legolas mimics her soft smile. Although Tauriel doesn't reply, as she meets his gaze, she knows that he's right. He's always been there for her and always will be.

She despaired at the loss of Tarron because she knew that there could have been a possibility for something real. She could have actually loved him and had a happy life knowing that she could do a lot worse. Despite the fact that her feelings were strong for Legolas, his father would never allow them to be. All she could do was wait till the day when he would be paired off with a far higher elf, and this would hurt far worse than losing Tarron.

* * *

The next morning, you wake up snuggled in your bed, with Elora once again at your side.

"It is such a relief to finally see you getting some rest, m'lady! I know it's no place of mine to be telling you what to do, but after you disappeared the other day, it didn't half worry me."

"I know, I'm sorry Elora, really I am. I just had to, um-"

"It's alright, you don't have to explain yourself to me, m'lady."

You smile at her politely, feeling a sense of comfort in seeing her face again.

"Now, let's take a look at your side," she says, lifting up your silk nightie.

During all of the events that had occurred yesterday, you had forgotten about your wound. It hadn't really troubled you much after running through the woods. But as she placed her fingers around the bandage to replace it with a clean one, you winced slightly, wrinkling your nose at the sensation of her cool touch. Noticing this, Elora immediately retracted her hand from your ribs.

"Oh! I'm sorry my Lady, does it hurt too much? Perhaps we should wai-"

"No, no, it's fine, you just have cold hands."

"Ah, well only if you're sure..."

You nod and watch closely as she gently pries the white fabric away from your skin. Bracing yourself for the pain, you grit your teeth, but before you know it, the bandage is off with relatively no pain. Revealing a slightly darkened patch just over the top of your ribs, there appears to be hardly a trace of a scar, only a slightly faded line where you were stabbed.

"Wow."

"Our healers are the best in these lands, it should be gone completely within the next couple of days: magic m'lady."

_Duh._ You mentally remind yourself of elvish magic after forgetting everything you've learnt about it. She smiles whilst re-dressing the bandage with much less fabric, just enough to cover the faded bruising. Somehow, it reminds you of Tarron and you try to distract yourself before the tears come flooding back. Setting your focus on the wooden beam above your room, it looks similar to the ones in your house. Although it wasn't much, it was home. You missed working outside in your father's fields and the wind in your hair, tickling against your skin.

_But I'm safer here (didn't you get stabbed not long ago?) and no Orcs can get in and it's not like they don't feed me. Anyway, now that Tarron's gone back, they'll know where I am (yeah, because they've really noticed you're missing)…_

As you try to reason with your mind, Elora gently leads you out of the bed and into the bathing room. Once finished getting ready, your hair attended to in a high bun, wearing a pale blue dress with lace sleeves, you take a final glance in the mirror. You're about to attend the hall for breakfast and as Elora accompanies you off down the hall, you feel suddenly nervous, as it's something you've never been required to do before.

"But are you _sure_? I mean why wou-"

"For the fifth time m'lady, yes! The King requested your presence at every meal of the day and it is my duty to ensure that you do!"

"Great. I can tell this isn't going to be awkward at all. Nah, despite the fact that he made my best fr-"

Pushing you through the doors, Elora barely gives you time to continue your rant. Immediately, your eyes settle on the long table in front of you, laid out for at least fifty elves.

_Christ…I didn't think I'd be joining the entire army. _

Much to your dismay, there are only a few seats left but as you look around at their faces you spot Legolas talking with Nym. Seated at the lower end of the table, you casually walk over to them with your head bowed low, trying not to draw attention to yourself. Heading for the only free chair opposite the boys, they stop conversing as they see you and Legolas calls on a servant to help you to your chair.

"How are you feeling? Not just your wound but…you know, after yesterday. I'm so sorry, we heard-"

"I'm alright, I guess. Anyway, it's not your fault."

You throw an icy glare to the elf sat at the head of the long table. He is leant back surveying the room, whilst other elves attempt to capture his attention with their dull conversation. One however, succeeds and they soon become engrossed in their discussion.

_Ha. It must be on the topic of banishment. _

"Well at least now there shouldn't be any more problems. After all, you have to admit, that elf was a troublesome- what!?"

Nym kicks Legolas in the leg – although you doubt he even feels the pain.

"She's just lost her best friend!"

"Oh come on, you're all acting like he's dead!"

"And you're acting like you're glad!"

"Ariella, like I said, he _did_ cause most of the problems around here-"

"Oh…you mean problems between you and Tauriel?" you say, raising an eyebrow as Nym giggles into his glass.

"No-I…look, let's just put this matter behind us, there's nothing more to be done about it. Let's just be thankful my father didn't banish us all."

Knowing he's sort of right, you sigh, but looking around, Tauriel's absence becomes clear.

"Where is she anyway?"

"The King wanted her to lead the patrol this morning. She should be back around mid-day."

Turning your attention to the food on the table, you don't really fancy anything. You had grown up on meat, rabbits and pork, your farm provided well in that area. But now, the bowls in front of you are piled with red berries and green leaves. There's also a weird looking loaf of bread that seems more like a biscuit, but you doubt they would ever eat such a thing.

"Is this really all you guys eat? These berries and shit? No wonder you're all so thin-"

Suddenly Nym splurts out half his drink as Legolas throws his head back with laughter and you giggle at their response until you see the King's stern expression looking at the three of you from the top of the table. It's then that you realise all is quiet except Legolas and Nym's remaining laughter.

"Was it really that funny?" you whisper, leaning over to them.

"Yes!" they both answer in unison.

"They all act as if they've never heard laugher before."

"Well m'lady, that's because they haven't - not for a long while."

Nym winks at you and you smile. As Legolas finally manages to compose himself, a maid steps forward and curtseys before whispering something into his ear.

"Ah, very well…" he dismisses the maid with a flick of his hand. _Just like his father_.

"…I must leave you both, but be sure to continue this _splendid_ conversation without me."

"Of course, _my prince. _I wouldn't subject Ariella to a tedious conversation with the berries."

Legolas chuckles and departs by patting Nym on the back, but unaware of his strength, he almost ends up headfirst in a bowl full of thick, lime green soup.

Nym shakes his head as you cover your mouth, trying to hold back your laughter.

"He's spent far too much time playing with Orcs."

Smiling down at your plate, you're glad at least one of the elves has a lighter side. But this only brings you back to Thranduil's earlier words. Did he really love you? Not that he was the only thing you could think about, but as much as you tried to ignore what he'd said, you couldn't help but wonder…just how was he going to prove his love for you?


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 **

Over the next few days you barely see Thranduil, except for mornings and evenings. You had spent your time learning to read elvish, touring the halls with Nym and hiding in your new found favourite place: the library.

Sprawled on the floor, reading (well, attempting to read) a book on elven myths, you become increasingly frustrated after getting stuck on the same words. Exhaling loudly, you close the book and slouch back against the wooden frame of the elegant bookcases that encase the entire room. You lean back to gaze up, marvelling at the sheer amount of books that are stacked up high.

"I thought I'd find you here."

"What th- Christ Nym, couldn't you have knocked?!"

"Actually, Ariella, I am a firm believer that the library is a place of freedom – where there are no rules about knocking etiquette."

"Well then, as it is such a free place…I'm going."

"Not on my behalf, I hope?"

"You aren't that irritating. I just want to see Elora about something."

"Fine, then I shall escort you."

"You don't have to, I highly doubt I'll get stabbed for a second time."

He offers out his arm to you whilst you clamber up, placing your book back on its shelf.

"I know…in all honesty, I'm surprised the King doesn't keep you with him at all times."

"I'm sorry?"

"Well, due to the attack. He did seem terribly alarmed, Ariella, and come to think of it, didn't he order you to be placed in his chambers?"

"…maybe..."

"Ariella! Are you disobeying King Thranduil…again?"

Letting your arm fall, he parades around the room, arching one eyebrow as he pretends to be King.

"My, my…you are a disobedient human."

Winking at you, he then flicks his hand in mock dismissal. This causes you to flop forward, clutching your stomach as you laugh uncontrollably, but his antics are soon interrupted by a stressed Legolas who stands at the doorway, leaning against the frame.

"My good friend, what in all of Mirkwood has happened? You look as though your father is making you wed a dwarf!"

"That is _precisely_ what is happening."

As the two of you approach him, Legolas huffs and begins to stroke his forehead nervously.

"I have just spoken to my father and he has decided to hold a banquet this evening, to which he tells me the both of you must also attend, but- he has invited _every_ single elven lady of noble birth in these lands! The worst part of this is that…well, he's invited Talia."

Nym and Legolas exchange a serious look.

"That's it? You're worried about a woman?"

"She is no woman. She's a manipulative, daughter of-"

"What Legolas is trying to say, is that Princess Talia is rather deceptive. Although the King has long favoured her as a match for Legolas, she only appears interested in the status that comes with marrying him. She also likes male attention a little too much, if you follow my meaning.."

"I see…"

"So much so, that I lost one of my closest friends because of her. That vile creature couldn't keep herself away from him and when her father found out, he urged my father to punish him, so he sent him to the dungeons, but after he was released, Talia's brothers went after him…we found him dead several days later."

"Remind me why Thranduil actually wants you to marry her?"

"Her family is very well respected and according to him, she is fit to one day rule this realm."

Nym shakes his head in disgust as Legolas spits out the last words.

"Ah…but why do I have to come too?"

"I do not know Ariella, but I am confident that you'll have much more fun than I."

He leaves swiftly with Nym following, mumbling something in elvish that you assume is some sort of elven swear. You poke your head around the door and shout down the corridor to Nym.

"Hey! What about escorting me back?"

He turns around and smiles.

"I have the Prince's lady problems to deal with, Ariella. Now is not the time for escorting."

* * *

Soon enough, the night closes in and you are on your way to meet Legolas and Nym, outside the grand hall. As soon they see you, their faces drop. Both dressed in very similar attire, their tunics are a deep blue, making them look remarkably handsome.

Nym approaches you first, bowing at your feet; his eyes roll from your hair to your dress.

"You look truly beautiful…where did you get that dress?!"

"It's all Elora's work really, she did my hair and made the dress."

Elora really did make the best dresses you had ever seen. The one she had made for you tonight was a light purple, strapless empire dress that sparkled in the light with small diamond shaped gems that shaped the neckline. Hugging your figure, it made you feel feminine and confident.

"It suits you so well, it's just a shame you have to put up with such bad company."

"Are you referring to the princesses or yourself?"

He smiles, "Neither..." tilting his head towards the door as Thranduil enters.

Dressed like a true King in his black knee-high boots, his tunic a shimmering shade of silver, whilst his ruby cloak fits tightly around his huge arms – it's a struggle not to be drawn into his radiant aura.

_Why does he have to look so…ugh. Ok, I can handle this. Just remember what he did to Tarron. Yes._

Whilst Nym and Legolas bow, you try to hide behind them, but he sees you anyway.

"Oh Ariella…."

You roll your eyes, as he reaches in between them and takes your hand, swirling you around to get a better look at you. His eyes are wide with delight as they wander across every part of your body.

"My, you are quite a sight my darling…any princess would be envious of your beauty."

Nym and Legolas shuffle awkwardly closer to the door, desperately wanting to enter the hall. You look to the side and say nothing back. Becoming increasingly frustrated, Thranduil takes hold of your other hand and pulls you quickly towards him.

"Enter with me."

You don't have time to respond whilst he strides off with you stumbling behind, irritated.

"You could have at least said 'please'."

"I thought you weren't speaking to me?"

_Arsehole. Why can't he- you have got to be kidding. Not another goddamn ball. _

"Legolas said that this wa-"

"If you knew, would you have come?"

"I didn't think it was optional."

He chuckles at your petulance. Strolling off, he leaves you in the middle of hundreds of elven women, just as stunning as you'd imagined them to be. You manage to watch him head over to a group of gushing ladies. They must have been at least half his age. As you stand there, slightly open mouthed as they all clamour round him, he turns to one of them, moving her long blond hair (not dissimilar to his) away from her shoulder he whispers into her ear. All the while, his eyes are on you.

_Oh, please. What's that supposed to do, make me jealous? _

Turning away, you meander around the elves to find a table set out with bottles of scarlet wine. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Legolas making his way over to you. Quickly pouring a glass of the purple liquid before anyone can stop you, it takes you seconds to finish it in the hope that if you get drunk, it will at least make this evening more tolerable.

Glancing back over to where the King stands, you can just see the top of his crown, but you can guess he's still with them, drooling all over him.

"I thought you were supposed to be the one flirting with the ladies? Not your father."

Legolas grins, far more used to his father's charming ways than you were.

"From what I've heard, shouldn't it be you flirting with him? And they aren't really to my liking."

"What do you mean?"

"Ah, well…I suppose I mean that I prefer more independent, confident-"

"No, no. What have you heard?"

"My father told me about his love for you and ho- wait, did you not know?"

"Umm, sort of. Actually, I thought…never mind."

Shocked at the fact that Thranduil did actually tell the truth, you feel a tad guilty. But then again, he did still banish Tarron…_Ugh_. To lighten the mood, Nym saunters over to you and Legolas and it is soon apparent that he has had a little too much wine to drink.

"…You two..are my wisest..kindest f-friends in the _whole_ realm, I hope you b-both know that.."

"Great. The night has barely begun and the wine is already affecting him."

"Fear not Prince-ling, I'll keep a keen eye out for t-that dwarf-faced, stench of an orc, princess..."

You chuckle at his reference to Talia as Legolas folds his arms, watching Nym stagger off. You go to pour another glass, but Legolas grabs your hand as if to stop you, but as you look back to him, his eyes are focused elsewhere. He appears alarmed although says nothing and you are about to ask him what's wrong, when a booming velvet voice radiates from behind you.

"Here she is,"

Thranduil is standing in front of you, not yet noticing his son's distress, accompanied by another male elf, who surprisingly, also has platinum blonde hair. Although shorter than the King, his eyes are soft and kind and his smile appears genuine.

"…Haldir, this is Ariella."

He bows to you before holding out his hand in return for yours. As he rises you look at him and blush a little, it seems all elves have the same intense eye contact.

"It certainly is a pleasure, Lady Ariella."

Startled, you give a shy smile but no reply. You look up to Thranduil for a sign of how to respond, as you have no idea who this 'Haldir' is and what the King's intentions are for you meeting him. You look back over to where Legolas was stood; only he isn't there. Glancing back to Thranduil, he gives you no hints other than his usual smirk as he angles his head, signalling for you to reply.

"Um, thank you…"

As Haldir gazes at you fondly, Thranduil turns to him, seeming not to mind.

"I shall speak with you later, I have to introduce my son to someone - I'll leave the two of you to get acquainted."

_Don't you dar-_

"Until later, my king."

Haldir bows as Thranduil walks off. He flicks his hair behind him and winks back at you as he goes.

_Well. If that's how he wants to play. Fine._


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"I trust that the King is treating you well?"

_Hmm…I wonder how Thranduil would cope if rumours were to circulate that he was treating his guest badly? Time for some revenge I think. _

"Actually, well…I didn't want to cause a fuss…but- ah it's nothing really..."

Haldir steps closer to you, his expression growing concerned.

"My Lady, if you are at all unhappy I-"

"It's just that, I wouldn't want the King to get in trouble…"

"Ariella, I can assure you, that whatever you divulge to me, I will not betray your trust."

_Well, only if you insist – if he's anything like the other elves, his loyalty to the King will have him spreading the gossip like fire, outraged at the almighty Thranduil's actions. Perfect. _

"To be completely honest with you,"

You lower your head, leaning slightly into him.

"..I haven't been fed for days and this is the first time I've ever been allowed out of the dungeons."

"What!? This is truly unacceptable, Ariella. The dungeons! On what premise where you put there?"

"Thranduil never gave me any reason."

You do your best pout and begin to sniff to make it all the more convincing.

"And you have told no-one else of this…neglect?!"

"No, I guess I didn't want to alarm anyone."

Haldir takes your hand in his and strokes it soothingly.

"You must understand that I cannot allow this disregard for your health to be continued. Do not fear, leave it to me and I shall resolve this matter."

"Thank you Haldir, I'm so grateful for your help."

"You need not thank me Ariella, Thranduil should address this immediately. Do not worry, I shan't tell him, but if _I_ were to have you in my hospitality, I would not be so careless with,"

His round eyes lock with yours as he begins to lose his words.

"..such a stunning… delicate-"

"Um yes, well thank you, but I must find my friend…he said he was going to try and smuggle in something for me to eat. Goodbye…"

You quickly turn away, leaving Haldir to watch you delve back into the colourful sea of elves to find exactly whereabouts Legolas had got to. As much as he was good-looking, you didn't exactly need another complicated romantic entanglement. Also, it wasn't as if your entire existence was to be tied to a man. Thus, unable to locate Legolas after trying for far too long, you wander off to find Nym in order to have some fun of your own.

Although the majority of the hall was full with gorgeous noble lady elves, who were wearing the prettiest dresses made from silk and lace, there were a few men who had accompanied them on their journey or were relatives and due to this, it was easy to spot him; even more so from the loudness of his voice and the space between him and the lady elves.

"Ayy, Ariella!"

As you approach him he sways from side to side, almost falling over his own feet.

"Are you sure you should be having this much wine?"

"It's the t-troll, she's here! Look, look!"

"What?"

Nym laughs and points, rather too obviously for your liking, over to a lady you have never seen before. Legolas is stood beside her, frowning and red in the face. To say he looks angry is an understatement. But she on the other hand, looks calm, smirking and batting her eyelashes at him.

_Talia. This must have been who he saw earlier._

You stay with Nym to keep him occupied to stop him from downing any more of the wine and as the hours go by, it becomes increasingly clear that your plan has worked. Many of the male elves begin to throw you pitying looks, whilst the women gasp and stare, whispering to each other. Although the King appears to have been telling the truth about revealing all to Legolas, he still threw out your best friend. And for this, he needed payback. You knew how much Thranduil liked to be the centre of attention and this would give him exactly what he wanted - more or less.

As Nym introduces you to some of the random women that also appear to find his drunkenness amusing, you begin to see a pattern. Most of them are your age with long blond hair and slim figures; whilst you were more the curvy type with darker hair. Whilst talking with the less arrogant ones, they offer you sympathy after hearing how Thranduil treats you. One woman in particular approaches you. She is tall (as usual) and older than most of the others, her dark blue eyes appear to be riddled with worry.

"Are you Ariella?"

"Ah, yes."

"Well, I just wish to say that I am utterly appalled to here of the King's behaviour towards you. I know that you are a human – but that is no excuse. I thought that out of all the people who would have kept you well-looked after, it would be Thranduil; especially after what his own kin have been through."

"Thank you, but I really don't want to cause any hassle."

_Oh no, that would be terrible…_

"Nonsense. It shall be rectified soon enough, my child. The council will see to that."

_Council? Oh dear…he will be mad. What a shame. _

As she floats back over to a crowd of anxious looking women, you can't help but admire your own scheming. Everything is going to plan. Suddenly, you feel yourself being pulled by the arm backward and look behind you to see Nym who appears out of nowhere. Taking you with him, he stalks over towards Talia, who is now without Legolas.

"No, Nym. We ca-"

"Sssshh! We must creep up secretly behind her and listen in…she may be conspiring against us!"

"I don't think she is. Surely she wouldn't do that here?"

"You are wrong, so, so wrong, very ver-"

"Nym? Are you- sweet Christ."

Collapsed on the floor, Nym attracts all the attention as heads turn to mock him. One elf comes over to you after watching your attempts to help him up, but his height makes this task rather tricky.

"Just leave him, he'll be alright. He should be used to this by now."

He chuckles and walks off. As you stand there, unsure if you should leave him or not, you notice that over to the far right of the hall there begins to form a small circle of what looks like superior elves; possibly Lords or other royalty. Straining your neck up to see over the heads of elves, you make out Thranduil, who is stood in the centre of them.

_The council. _

Upon seeing you, he notices that you're watching and catches your eye with a fierce glare. You guess he must have found out and as the group dissipates, he is left standing there, simmering, brooding, glaring at you.

_Yeah, bitch. Now you know how anger feels. _

You have to admit that he looks even more glorious when he's angry – intimidating, but by god, glorious. To annoy Thranduil even more, you smirk at him then turn your back weaving off through the crowd, until he calls out your name.

"Ariella. Come here, _now_."

You smile at hearing the irritation in his voice. Turning back round, you walk slowly over to where he is standing, legs wide apart, his arms folded and his head raised high. He looked less than pleased; much less.

"Is there something wrong, _my King_?"

You try to contain your amusement.

"Oh I think you know exactly what is wrong, _my darling_."

"I'm afraid you will have to elaborate…"

"I intend to do more than elaborate, Ariella. If it's a scene you want, then that is what you shall get."

He grabs you roughly and turns you so that both of you are facing everyone in the hall.

"HOW _DARE_ YOU RAISE YOUR HAND TO ROYALTY! This is what I get for allowing you out of the dungeons? After I gave you a chance not to return to your violent ways? And you wonder why I keep you locked up!"

Heat rushing to your cheeks, you feel completely embarrassed. Out of all the things he could have done, this was the last thing you expected. Everyone is now staring at the two of you; what could you say back?

Leaning down to you, he snarls into your ear.

"What did you expect when you play games with a King?"

"What did you expect me to do when you threw out my best friend?" you say through gritted teeth.

His hold on your arms is tight, as if to restrain you. He whispers back, smirking.

"You cannot fool me, darling. I know you are enjoying this."

"I most definitely am not."

_I totally am._

"You've made your point, now let me go."

You wriggle, trying to move his arms away from you.

"Oh I don't think so, my little flower. I'm not quite done with you yet..."

He releases his hold on your arms and instead takes your hand lightly, drawing you closer to him.

"I meant what I said to you Ariella. I intend to prove it, regardless of what you do."

"What makes you think I want you to prove it? How do you expect me to love someone who does not care about my feelings? You made it clear by banis-"

"Ariella."

"Yes, my King?"

Your words are still tinted with playful sarcasm, knowing full well he loves it just as much as you do.

"Kiss me."

"What!?"

"You heard what I said. Do not play coy with me woman, you have tested me for long enough."

Obeying his command, you reach up on your tip-toes and kiss him softly on his smooth lips, making the entire room hush. The whispers and chattering that had risen from Thranduil shouting at you seemed far more pleasant than the now apparent silence that had broken across the room.

"That's not what I mean. Do it properly, Ariella. Or would you rather I make another scene?"

"Isn't that what you're doing already?"

"Very well, I'll do it myself."

Taking you by the waist, Thranduil curls his strong arms around you and pulls you flat against him. He instantly devours your mouth and you feel his tongue take dominance over yours. As he continues to deepen the kiss without letting you breathe, you release a quiet moan into his mouth as a wave of desire washes over you and your whole body tingles wanting more.

When he eventually breaks the kiss, you feel slightly faint but his arms keep you tight against him. Looking up into his eyes, they are dark and full of lust. He begins to smirk as he notices your expression change when you suddenly remember that you are in front of hundreds of elves, now looking at you with astonished faces, mouths hanging wide open.

_Shit._

Thranduil, still keeping you close to him, turns to address the stunned crowd.

"Ariella is _mine_. Anyone who harms her shall answer to their King."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"Will everyone please make their way to the banquet hall."

An announcer breaks the awkward silence, as the whole hall, still in shock, renounces all ability to move. After all, a human and an elf had never been seen together, especially in public. In fact, even the King himself claimed to shun the mix. Yet here you were; eyes downcast to avoid the stares of onlookers, sticking to Thranduil's side. As the crowd begins to slowly saunter off towards the adjoining hall, the two of you are left standing alone. You move forward, ready to follow them, but he pulls you back into him whilst chuckling.

"What?"

"I'm not done with you yet."

"Do you think I can just forget about everything? Why did you even-"

"To prove it."

"A kiss, my King, proves nothing."

You smirk, pushing away from him. He grabs your hand and spins you back around with the intention of repeating his previous show, only to be stopped by the presence of his personal messenger.

"Apologies, my King. Lord Ralnor wishes to speak with you."

Exhaling, Thranduil keeps you in hold as he rises to his full height before speaking to Elbereth.

"Very well. Inform Ralnor that I shall speak with him shortly…"

"Yes, my King."

"..And the next time I am occupied with such a beauty, do not disturb me. Understood?"

"Yes...your highness."

Elbereth bows, leaving in a hurry with enflamed cheeks. The King smirks, enjoying the sound of his own voice and links your arm with his as he directs you towards the dining hall. You shake your head upon seeing his delight in making the messenger feel uncomfortable.

"Is there something wrong, darling?"

"You made him feel embarrassed."

"And? I am sure he can handle-"

"Fine, but please just stop smirking."

"And why would I do that? Although… I do rather enjoy it when you make demands."

You roll your eyes at him as the two of you enter into the banquet hall.

He gestures to the chair next to his.

"Sit with me."

The long table is once again fully seated, only this time, the majority are women, now all wishing they were you. They stare at you with hateful eyes and you assume it's out of jealousy. If you could handle the pervy old elf who attacked you, then you could handle this lot. As you look further down the table, you see a small group of elven women flock around one person in particular. Their heads bob up and down so it's difficult to tell who is-

_Legolas._

Betrayed by his blond locks as a giggling lady moves to the side, you see an irritated looking young prince. His blue eyes seem unusually dull as he throws you a helpless look. It's then that you recognise Talia sat by his side, looking far too content for her own good. As she leans in closer to him, he pulls back, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Surely you can't be afraid of me, Legolas? After all, we've known each other for – well, almost as long as you've known Tauriel, wouldn't you agree?"

Legolas picks up his glass, the wine almost spilling over. He takes a huge gulp and drinks it all in one.

"…ah, the female warrior, such a hidden beauty…it would be a shame if something were to happen-"

He slams his glass down hard.

"Don't you _dare_ threaten me, Talia. Touch Tauriel and I will personally serve your head to the Orcs."

"Now, now, princeling. I wouldn't speak to your future wife like that.." she remarks with a smirk.

"Do you really think I would marry you? I'd sooner wed a dwarf, and an ugly one at that."

Placing a hand on his arm, she can't help but wind him up.

"Oh Legolas, didn't your father ever teach you not to hold grudges?"

"I'm afraid not, instead he taught me not to get involved with _common whores_ like you."

"But my sweet prince…you're already involved."

All of a sudden her lips are on his, yet as you watch them from the head of the table, surprised by her actions, everyone else seems oblivious. As he quickly retracts from the kiss, Legolas proceeds in grabbing her left arm, twisting it around her back whilst he throws her down to the floor.

With Legolas hovering over her, she chuckles.

"Still strong, princeling."

"Try that again and I'll put an arrow through your skull."

"Legolas!? What are you doing? Unhand my daughter at once!"

"Gladly."

As Talia pulls herself upright, she smiles sweetly at her father, then to you, then back at Legolas.

"Your father should take his own advice... it appears I'm not the only 'common whore' at this table."

Legolas grabs her arm, digging his nails into her skin as she lets out a hiss.

"Watch your tongue, Talia. One word to him about this and he'll have you thrown in the dungeons – and don't think he won't."

As if sensing his son's brewing rage, the King intercepts.

"Come, Legolas. Lord Ralnor wishes to talk with you."

Thranduil leans over to Ralnor, who sits opposite you, and whispers into his ear – you try to listen in, but he's clearly had too long to perfect this skill.

"Do not concern yourself with their foolery, my friend. I can assure you that my son and your daughter will make the perfect match."

* * *

After the banquet is over, Thranduil takes you back to his chambers; wanting to spend more time with you after he hardly said a word to you at the table, instead, giving all his attention to this Ralnor guy.

"What did Lord Ralnor want with Legolas?"

"Hmm?"

"The one sat next to you? What they talk about?"

"…Just council matters, nothing of interest to the ears of women."

"And how would you know? I might find these 'matters' very interesting."

He laughs, as you raise an eyebrow at him. As you sit on the edge of his bed, dangling your legs off the side, you try to block out your thoughts of what happened the last time you were in this room.

"Well then, the next time my councillors are in session, I shall let you know."

You look over to the door, events relaying in your mind. You can almost hear his voice, his laugh, the way his hands clawed against your skin, leaving red marks and tender bruises. Thranduil looks over to you, observing, as you stare at the door, becoming all the more distant.

"Ariella?"

"Oh, I- ah was..um.."

"I should have been here…if I can't even protect you from a single-…"

His back is facing you as he stands over the writing table in front of him. He becomes agitated, knocking the wine glass on the table to the floor. You jump slightly, unsuspecting, and as it shatters, you are reminded of the necklace that he sent to you on the night of your first ball; it too had been sent crashing to the ground. You watch as the crimson liquid spills across the floor, giving you chills.

Thranduil composes himself and turns to face you.

"Ariella, I am truly sorry."

"…You weren't to blame…and I'm fine now. Let's just forget about it."

"And Tarron?"

His name felt like a stab in the stomach. You hadn't thought of him in days. The guilt came surging back and you weren't sure how to answer him. At least you knew Tarron was safe and well, back in the village and he did actually want to leave beforehand…but that didn't help rid the guilt.

"What about him?"

"Am I still going to get scolded about taking him back?"

You can't take him seriously with that smirk and his tall, muscular build, just waiting to be-

"No…as long as he's safe, I suppose you're free from my wrath."

He smiles – and it seems genuine, far more real than the ones he pulls when talking to officials.

"Good. Although…I'm afraid I can't say the same for you..."

He walks over to you and picks you up, placing you back down underneath him in the centre of his bed. Looking up at him, your heartbeat begins to race in anticipation.

"I don't ever intend for you to be free from my wrath…"

He trails his finger down the side of your face, stopping underneath your chin to lift up your head.

"_Ever_."

You let out a small gasp before he takes advantage of your partially parted lips, his tongue exploring your mouth greedily whilst holding down your hands. Without breaking the kiss, he pushes up your dress to expose your thighs, gently sliding two fingers in-between your legs. You moan into his mouth as he begins to move them in and out at an unbearably slow pace. Feeling how soaking wet you are, he smirks, knowing that you won't be able to last much longer and as your muscles begin to tense around his fingers, he lets out a deep groan, imagining it happening to his cock.

As your chest heaves with pleasure, your breathing is now ragged as your moans start to get louder and with the pressure building, you begin to groan in desperation. But as you do so, he removes his fingers and stops kissing you. This only adds to your frustration and you take to whining as he looks down at you, grinning arrogantly.

"Oh Ariella…you can whine all you want: It's my way, or not at all."

He instantly rips away the bodice of your dress, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable; just how he likes it. Looking you over, he lightly glides his hand over your chest and stops at your breasts. His hands are cold and the contact makes you squeal at the sensitivity, causing him to harden even more as you feel his erection press against your lower stomach.

"All these little noises you make, the gasps, the moans…they drive me _insane_."

He circles your nipple with his finger, making your heartbeat race.

"Do you do it on purpose, to taunt me? Hmmm?"

You shake your head, your body aching for his touch.

"Now….perhaps we should try something else..."

Before you can respond, his head is between your thighs. You cry out as he licks and sucks you desperately, his tongue darting in and out of you as his hands hold onto your hips possessively. You arch your back wanting more of him as you moan loudly; you're sure everyone will be able to here you, but you don't care anymore. As he changes his pattern, circling your most sensitive spot, you call out his name and he hums in response, creating vibrations that send you mad. But just as you feel yourself about to let go, he stops again, rising back over you with a wicked grin on his face.

_The bastard._

Sliding his tongue over his lips, his eyes lock with yours.

"…You taste divine…"

You whimper at his words, all the while the heat still growing between your legs. You reach out to touch him, but he grabs your hand, placing it on his chest, indicating for you to remove his clothes. As you do so, his breathing grows louder, quickening as you sit upright, practically in his lap, whilst you strip off each item of clothing. Thranduil's eyes follow your hands as you take off his boots and slide down his trousers, freeing his straining manhood. Still in his lap, it's your turn to tease, as you trace your hands across his muscular torso, all the way down to his cock, grabbing it firmly. A low rumble forms in his chest and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you smirk, slowly pumping your hand up and down his hardening member, all the while you shuffle closer into his lap, enticing him. As he continues to groan, you bite down on your lip, trying hard to not sigh, but once he catches you, his mouth is on yours, sucking and biting on your bottom lip, encouraging you to moan. But you restrain yourself. Instead, you pump him faster, squeezing his cock harder as he growls into your mouth, bringing him closer to his release, causing him to give in first.

Snarling, he pushes you back down, spreading your thighs wide open, teasing you with the head of his cock at your entrance. You mewl submissively in response as you wiggle your hips, trying to get closer to him and with the pressure building once again, you begin to sob, wishing he would finally relieve you.

"…and I thought _I _was impatient…" he croons.

Unable to respond coherently, you mumble in frustration. Leaning down, he dips his head into the curve of your neck, whispering against your skin.

"You'll have to do better than that…."

"Th-…please, please…"

You feel like crying, doubting how it's even possible for him to stay hard for so long.

_Elves. _

"Oh darling…"

Without warning he slides deep into you, filling you inch by inch, making you scream out at the sudden mixture of pleasure and pain. He's so big, it takes a while to adjust to his size and as he quickens the pace, you find yourself lost, your legs wrapping around him instinctively, making you as close to him as you can be. He growls whilst continuing to pound into you, craving the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him.

"You have… no idea what you do to me…" he whispers between powerful thrusts.

He continues to make you come over and over again as his huge body moves against yours; although you're well aware that he isn't using his full strength, ensuring that he doesn't hurt you.

"Thranduil…." you moan, as he slams into you, groaning loudly.

Changing your position, he pulls your knees up closer to him. This new angle allows him to go even deeper within you, his cock sliding in and out of you at a relentless pace as he pins down your hands whilst you whimper, his eyes never leaving yours as he dominates you. Somehow, he still looks graceful, even with his long, blond hair falling across his torso, tickling your stomach as he moves. You suddenly scream out again at the insatiable friction, the two of you blissfully blind to the commotion that's occurring only metres away...

* * *

Loud footsteps march through the halls, fastly approaching the young Prince's chambers. Murmurs are heard all around the corridors as a group of commanding guards reach his doors. Without pausing to knock, they burst into his room, promptly informing Legolas of the news.

"Your highness, more orcs have entered the forest."

Legolas sighs, flicking through a book hopelessly; his irritable mood had been worsened by the talk with Talia's father, not to mention the girl herself.

"Then command your patrol to deal with them, isn't that your job?!"

"But my Pri-"

"Are you deaf as well as blind? I'm busy. Now would you kindly, _leave_."

A senior guard steps forward, he's an old friend of the prince – but also a relation to Talia.

"I apologise, Legolas… but we believe they're holding Tauriel captive."


End file.
